His Name is Beloved
by Raibean
Summary: Sam regrets not supporting Kurt before he transferred, and David regrets losing control of his fear. When Sam decides to help Karofsky work through his homophobia, will Sam find his strength?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Before I start, I would like to say that I can't believe that, when I first thought of the Save ship (Sam Evans/Dave Karofsky) there weren't any fics for it. I know people want Dave to find love, but they're placing it all in Kurt's basket, and – well, I'm not touching that mess. Suffice to say, I do NOT ship Kurtofsky at all. In the end, I want Karofsky to find redemption, and I honestly think that, at this point in the Glee series, Sam could be that chance (not necessarily through romance, of course). I mean, there's a reason the ship is called SAVE.**

His Name is Beloved 

Dave couldn't stand to look in the mirror anymore, so he removed them from his room. He closed his eyes as he brushed his teeth and washed his face. If he could, he tried to not look at himself while he showered. He hated himself now.

His father was disappointed in him; his mother couldn't look at him without tearing up, and Kurt was gone. Of course it was his fault – why didn't he see it coming? Hadn't he known what he was doing? No, he was scared. He let his fear get the better of him; he threatened Hummel – no, _Kurt_, the therapist said he needed to remember that his victims were people – more than that, he'd kissed him. Assaulted him.

But Kurt was so brave, he was everything Dave couldn't be, and Dave hated it, he hated thinking about Kurt, he hated how Kurt made him feel, and it just made him so angry at Kurt for doing it to him. Hurting Kurt made Dave feel better, it made him feel in control. It didn't give him control, because the thing about hurting Kurt was that it let Dave touch Kurt without anyone knowing how Dave felt. If no one knew how Dave felt, it was like it wasn't real. Then Dave had kissed Kurt. Kurt knew, and that put Kurt in control.

Dave had tried to get control back in the only way he knew how; well, now no one at McKinley High knew about Dave's feelings, but things were so much worse.

Dave remembered the kiss. It should have never happened, but when it ended, Dave went in again – he still didn't know if he wanted to make things better with Kurt or if he just wanted to get his feelings out. They weren't the same thing; as much as Dave imagined sex with guys (or tried not to), he couldn't see himself in a relationship with a dude. He couldn't picture himself cuddling anyone, let alone some guy. Holding hands? It just didn't look right in his head.

He thought about Kurt's wide, soft mouth – the image was ruined when he recalled the boy's terrified eyes. It happened every time, and Dave couldn't separate the feelings of lust and guilt. He loved that mouth, though, it was his favorite thing to think about.

Dave felt a strangled sort of excitement when he saw another soft, wide mouth. It wasn't attached to fearful eyes; in fact, it was twisted into a smile. Dave looked away from Sam Evans. The now-healed quarterback made him feel remorse about making Kurt leave; Sam had fought the hardest to protect Kurt just before the bird flew away. Even now that Kurt was gone, Sam never gave Dave anything more than a stony look at best – Sam usually scowled.

This was one of those times.

"You got a problem, Bieber?" Dave said threateningly. No, no, he couldn't do this again.

_Just get off my back, Evans._ Sam, he needed to call him Sam – he couldn't let himself forget that Sam was human.

Sam turned away. Dave hoped he would; he knew Sam wasn't one to get in confrontations lightly, especially now that he was quarterback. Sam didn't leave him alone, though; he was constantly in his thoughts. Now that Dave had noticed Sam's mouth – _round and pink, like they were already swollen from kissing_ – he couldn't think about anything else. He tried to work it out of his body during hockey practice (the season was about to start), but when he got home, all he wanted was to reach out and touch those lips, to see if they were really as soft as he imagined.

This wasn't right. Dave still dropped trou and fondled himself. Large mouth, large hands, perfect for kissing, caressing, _more_... For the first time in weeks, Dave didn't feel guilty afterwards. He was almost cheerful as he cleaned up. He could focus on his homework. Kurt didn't even cross his mind until his mother came home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Right in the beginning of this chapter, I address some of the stereotypes and things that bisexual people have to deal with. You might not see the connection, so I'm going to list them in order: biphobia (which is NOT the same as homophobia), having your sexuality invalidated, being accused of being a slut or the idea that because you are attracted to both males and females (and possibly more, like bigendered or gender-neutral people) means that you are attracted to everyone, the reduction of your sexuality to nothing more than a fetish for someone else's enjoyment, and again the invalidation of your sexuality. There are actually large numbers of bi- and trans*phobic people within the LGBT community, and I hope this raises (a little) awareness.**

His Name is Beloved

He kept his mouth shut when Dave tried to provoke him again. Sam missed Kurt – not that the two were very good friends, but when Kurt was around, Sam felt like he didn't have to be flamboyant to feel secure in his bisexuality. When he'd found out that Karofsky was bullying Kurt, he was pissed. He didn't even care about his black eye, but he was ashamed that he didn't tell everyone _why_ he'd been so fierce in the fight. Now, Sam felt like it was his fault that Kurt left. If only he'd had the guts to _say_ something... but he hadn't. He was dating Quinn, and he was scared what she would say.

"That's disgusting."

"Pick a gender."

"So you're basically a sex-crazed slut?"

"Can I watch you make out with another guy?"

"Bisexuality isn't real."

He shook his head and stepped into the showers... which brought him to the other problem with coming out as bisexual. Sam hated the idea of "coming out." To him, it didn't matter that much – or it wasn't supposed to. Since he'd changed schools, Sam suddenly cared about what other people thought. Sam didn't look at other guys in the shower (like he could with the stalls), but he was scared people would start to think he _was_ looking.

Sam took the shower on the end so no one could look at his junk. Even if he was sure no one on the football team would be looking, he was a tad insecure about that area of his body, which was part of why Sam had never actually had sex with a dude. He'd almost given one of his exes head before, but then his parents came home, and the two scrambled to get to Sam's Xbox (Sam was out to his parents, but who wants their parents walking in on them with their boyfriend's hand down their pants?).

Sam thought about Kurt again. Sam had only known him for a few months, but until Karofsky got to him, Kurt wasn't insecure at all. He was more than just proud of who he was, he flaunted it. Sam wished he could do that – he thought about coming out to his friends, but then Kurt left. Sam had no support at school. He could only imagine what the guys on the football team would do if they found out Sam liked dudes because he was sure that if he came out, Karofsky wouldn't be the only one coming after him.

Part of him was mad at Kurt for insisting Sam was gay that first week of Glee; it made him the target of Karofsky's rage now that Kurt was gone. Part of Sam didn't care; he wanted a reason to lash out at the bully who'd taken his safety bar away. Still, he surprised himself when he challenged Karofsky.

"What is your problem with me, Karofsky?" Sam yelled.

"You sad that your boyfriend's gone, Evans?" Karofsky sneered.

"No, but I bet you are."

"Excuse me, homo?"

"The way you were always after him, always pushing him and teasing him," Sam taunted, "and you know what little girls say on the playground: if a boy's mean to you, that means he likes you."

"Fuck you, Queerio!"

"And now you're after me, meat-head, am I your new crush after your victim dumped you?"

Dave looked to shocked to say anything.

"Oh my god, it's true." Sam's hands fell to his sides. "You're -"

"Don't say it!" Karofsky shouted. His voice was shaking. "Look, that fag -"

"Don't you dare call him a fag!" Sam snarled.

"He kissed me!"

"Oh, yeah, because he was so into you! You're full of shit, Karofsky!"

"If you fucking tell anyone -"

"I won't tell anyone, Dave, because unlike you, I'm not cruel."

Sam left as quickly as he could. How could he have missed it? The last couple of weeks Kurt was still at McKinley, he was much more scared – and hadn't Finn said that Karofsky had threatened to kill Kurt? Why hadn't Sam wondered why? Why hadn't he noticed how suspicious it was that Karofsky was suddenly more aggressive with Kurt?

"God _damn_ it!" Sam grit his teeth.

Dave was going to target him, and Sam wanted to make it up to Kurt. There was only one way to fix both. Sam needed to help Karofsky.


	3. Chapter 3

His Name is Beloved

_Fuck. __**Fuck!**_ Dave buried his head into his pillow and screamed.

This wasn't supposed to happen; it wasn't supposed to be this way! Sam had figured out his secret, and Dave knew he couldn't do anything about it. He punched the bed.

_You need to calm down, David. You have anger issues._

His therapist's words. That bitch. She didn't know how hard it was, how once his heart got pumping, he was all instinct. Sports had taught him to trust his instincts – but his instincts were the thing that pushed him to make Kurt transfer. He rolled over and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

"What am I gonna do?" A sob wrenched its way through his throat. _Jesus._

He couldn't threaten Sam like he had with Hummel – _Kurt_; he was sure Sam would tell the glee club, and ever since Kurt was gone, the teachers all kept an extra eye out for Dave. They were just waiting for him to fuck up.

_I am _not_ a fuck up._ David had made a mistake; he just needed to make sure he didn't repeat it. _Sam said he wouldn't tell anybody._ But that wasn't a guarantee of anything. Kurt had said that too – Kurt had actually lied instead of outing him in front of his father and Coach Sylvester. At the very least, he owed Kurt one.

_What am I supposed to do now?_ He imagined that Kurt would have wanted him to come out – Sam, too. That would take away their power, right? If you showed that you weren't ashamed of your secrets, that you could flaunt them, then it didn't matter who knew. The only problem was that Dave _was_ ashamed, ashamed and very, very scared.

He knew Azimio would just tell him to kick the crap out of Sam (or even do it himself, no matter how vague Dave was with the details). That was out. He couldn't do the same himself. Fuck. He could beg Sam – no, no, that idea sucked. What else was there? Maybe he could be nice to Sam. Maybe if he was nicer – not nice enough to be his friend, though, it was bad enough that Hudson had actually asked Dave to join glee – Sam would like him, so he wouldn't betray his secret.

_Forget it. I'm not kissing that Queerio's ass._ Except he couldn't think of anything else. That seemed to be the only middle-ground he could find.

Dave tried, he really did. He stopped making gay jokes about Sam to his face, and he only laughed at them in private. Football season was over, but baseball was going to start in March, so he often saw Puck, Finn, and Sam in the locker room after his hockey practice. Things were a little tense with the hockey team since they'd slushied him a few weeks ago. None of them had apologized, and since Azimio wasn't there, it was hard for him to intimidate them into doing it – especially since the hockey coach, like the other teachers, was keeping an eye on him. Hockey was just more and more stressful, especially when everyone hit the showers at the end. He was determined not to look at anyone, but at the same time, he was scared other guys would be looking at him. Before, he would check with darting eyes to see if anyone was, but now he couldn't. Hudson had already gotten on his case about making homophobic jibes for the other guys, and he couldn't let that happen again. It was worn if he saw or heard Sam. He couldn't stop himself from remembering his one of latest fantasies (pick-up truck, against a door, in the shower, tied to a bed, in a park, in his attic, playing video games). Then he had to hide a building erection until he got home. Once he got there, it was hand on flesh, imagined stolen kisses, warm saliva, rough touches, forced noises – and the horrific drop after finishing, the shameful clean-up and the dreadful wish to take it back. The wish wouldn't stop him from repeating it the next day.


	4. Chapter 4

His Name is Beloved

Sam tried to smile at Karofsky as much as possible. Every time he saw him in the hall, a nod and a smile. He was a little scared that the hockey player would think he enjoyed knowing Dave's secret, but that wasn't the case – he just wanted to show some support. Of course, he probably couldn't do that properly without revealing that he was bisexual. Would that help his case, or would it make Karofsky freak out? Every time Kurt came up around one of the glee kids, at least one thing was said about Dave. Sam knew he couldn't defend him without revealing the secret he kept; part of him didn't want to since Dave deserved it. What he had done was _beyond_ wrong.

_Shit, Sam, you're not a therapist – you're not even an adult? What the hell can _you_ do to fix this?_ Except Sam knew that teenagers often didn't feel safe telling an adult a secret like that, and if Dave was still in the closet... He wasn't ready, and Sam finding out was just an accident.

It didn't matter too much; there was no way Karofsky was going to let himself be alone with Sam again, right? Or... at least until he found out that Sam liked dudes.

Then Quinn got mono. She was out of school for weeks, and Sam barely talked to anyone at all, let alone smiling at them. When she came back, he was happy again – for about a week. Then Santana spelled it out for him. He was hurt; he felt stupid, and he didn't want to be alone, so he took her offer. She's offered to be his mistress, but Sam wasn't a cheater. He stopped smiling again. Often, he found himself looking at either Quinn or Finn. Rage would overtake him, but only for a moment. Then he would look at Santana, but that didn't help, either. She was using him to be popular, or maybe she hated being alone as much as he did. She didn't really like him; she hated the things he liked, the things he hid so he could stay popular. Had Quinn really liked him, or had he just been in the right place at the right time? Every time he thought about it, he just felt more alone than ever.

He was running track after baseball practice when Karofsky came onto the field. They were both pacing themselves, but at different speeds, and it only took a couple of laps before they were side by side.

"Hey, uh, I heard about Quinn."

"Yeah."

"Hudson's a dick, going after your girl like that."

"They have history together, though."

"Funny, she cheated on him, and that's how she got pregnant."

"Her vagina should come with a warning label."

"Santana's not exactly better."

"Santana's upfront about it."

"Have you two -"

"Not yet, but we have a date this weekend." They rounded a corner. "Did you ever -"

"No. Thought about trying it." Dave glanced over at Sam. "Hey, you're not going to tell anyone about – about me, right?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Sam was quiet for a while. "I'm bisexual."

"_What?_ You like co-"

"Shut the fuck up, Karofsky!"

"Oh, yeah, and you got on my ass for hiding it."

"I'm not going around threatening to kill people, either!"

"Who told you that?"

"Finn. Is it true?"

"Yeah."

"Do you threaten to kill everyone you kiss?"

Karofsky stopped running. Sam was just a few feet ahead of him when he stopped and turned around.

"What? Come on, man."

"I'm not a fuck up." Dave was hanging his head. "I just messed up once, okay?"

"That's a pretty big way to fuck up."

"I'm sorry!" He rubbed his forehead, gritting his teeth. "You don't get it! You're already Mr. Popular; it's easy for you! Girls like you! And even... even if a girl liked me like that... I don't know if I could fake it. I don't know if I could do that to her, either."

"So you won't pretend you like a girl 'cause it could hurt her feelings, but you'll shove someone into lockers and force yourself on them?"

"Shut up! I'm working on it!"

"Working on what, your double-standards?"

"My anger issues, okay?"

He started to walk off the track. Sam sighed, the started to jog after him.

"Look, I shouldn't've said those things. I'm just pissed. I thought about coming out, but then Kurt left, and I figured it wasn't safe."

"Really?"

"Yeah, blame your lack of self-control on me."

"So, uh, how are you working on it?"

Dave kicked a rock. "Ever since I got expelled, I've been seeing a therapist. She's nice, but -"

"But you don't feel safe telling her what's really going on."

"I tried! I really did." He looked away. "Every time I try, my throat gets clogged up, and I freak out."

"Hey, man, it's okay."

"No, it's not!" He stopped walking and looked at Sam. "How do I know you're really bi? How do I know you aren't just lying so that you can tell people I'm, you know, and just laugh it off?"

Sam kissed him; no hesitation, no thoughts. It wasn't cheating if Santana didn't care, right? The only person she ever seemed to get possessive over was Puck.

When Sam pulled back, Dave had a lost look on his face. He stared at Sam, then raised a hand to his lips.

"Now you can't say -"

"Get away from me!" The hockey player spun around and ran to his car. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the track. He wished he hadn't opened his big mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

His Name is Beloved

Dave ran away before Sam could, before he could see Sam's scared eyes and paled cheeks over that wide mouth he loved so much. He didn't make it home – he knew his parents were there, waiting for him to come home. He didn't have a session with his therapist today, but it was Family Game Night, a tradition that had regained some vigor after the episode with Kurt.

He parked on the highway shoulder and broke down bawling.

_He kissed me, though._ There was nothing to be guilty about, right? Except for the fact that he had provoked Sam, except for the fact that Dave wanted it, that Dave liked it, no, there was nothing to be guilty about. _I'm just a fucking faggot._ He punched the dashboard.

_Oh, shit..._ He cracked it – just a little crack, but his dad was sure to notice at some point, and if Dave couldn't take care of his truck, he couldn't have it.

"Fuck, _fuck, __**fuck!**_" he screamed. He wanted to lash out. Evans – _Sam, his name is Sam –_ had kissed him. Sam knew his secret. David was not in control.

He couldn't stay angry, he had to calm down. Unfortunately, the only way he knew how to do that was remind himself of just how badly he'd fucked up with Kurt. Now he felt like shit.

_I am not a fuck up. I am not a fuck up._ He kept repeating that to himself as he dried his face and drove back home.

He did his homework, ate dinner, played Scrabble (which Dave was actually pretty good at), but his mind was elsewhere. It wasn't anything new, and his parents had given up asking about it. Every so often, they would try again only to hear him say it was nothing, but tonight was not one of those nights. His little brother (an eight grader) showed off his geography test. Timothy wasn't athletic like Dave; he had glasses and adored building things like rockets, airplane and boat models, and buildings (with legos or Popsicle sticks). They had an older brother, too, but Michael was at college studying to be a lawyer at their father's alma mater.

Dave couldn't sleep that night, so he thought about Sam. Who knew Sam liked guys? Besides Kurt, that was. That hair seemed like a give away at first, especially with him joining glee, but Dave liked guys and he liked footballs and hockey – he hadn't even known he could sing or dance until Mr. Schue told him. Being in glee for the week – well, part of it – was fun, though, and he knew why Sam liked it. Quinn was there (and now Santana), and the glee kids were nice enough after the initial fights. For a place that popped out so many rumors, glee club seemed pretty drama-less. Everyone was so focused on themselves and the dance number or the song in there, none of them seemed to care about Dave or his problems. It was liberating. Too bad joining glee would make his problems even more visible.

He thought about what Sam had said about coming out, how he might have if Dave hadn't bullied Kurt. What if Kurt and Sam had gotten together? Would they have held hands in the hall? Kissed where everyone could see them? It didn't look right in his head – he could barely imagine Kurt at McKinley anymore and seeing Sam smile was hard enough these days. If Dave had stayed at the track instead of running off, would Sam have smiled at him?

_Don't be ridiculous_, he thought to himself. _No one wants a cowardly fag like you._


	6. Chapter 6

His Name is Beloved

"You've cheated on guys before, right?" Sam asked Santana. She was straddling him, caressing his bare chest. She liked gifts; would she mind that Princess Leia prisoner outfit if she didn't know what it was?

"Yeah, but when I do it, it's generally because we have an agreement like Puck, who scares everyone so he stays popular and not because you and I have an agreement where cheating on you would cause people to make fun of you." She crossed her arms.

"What about with Brittany?"

"Brittany's dating Artie. After she took his virginity, she figured out that he's not a guy to mess around with."

"But you've had sex with her, right?"

"Look, we're not playing the angry exes game."

"Or is it all for attention so guys will pay for your dinner?"

It stung when Santana slapped him.

"Don't you ever, _ever_ question my relationship with Brittany, or I will dump you very publicly and let it slip about your tiny dick!"

"You haven't even seen it!"

Santana gave a cat-like smile. "I don't have to; everyone will believe me anyways."

"So you really are bisexual."

"Yeah, whatever. Where's this going, Geek Trek?"

"What would happen if I kissed someone else?"

Santana's mouth was a hard line as she glared at Sam.

"Look, I'm possessive, but there are a couple of reasons for that. The biggest one happens to be image. I know you're not in this because you like me, but you can't back out just yet. You keep it quiet so absolutely _nobody_ knows, Dork Vader, and I won't care what or whom you do – on the condition that you allow me the same courtesy."

"So... we'll just be together in public?"

"Yes." A slight grin played over her lips. "Who'd you kiss, anyways? It wasn't Quinn, was it?"

Sam laughed. "No, not her."

"Then who? You've been too out of it for you to be noticing anyone."

"It wasn't... I don't know. It wasn't a thing. It was a dare."

"Who dared you? Someone else? Because I can tell you right there, that breaks the agreement, so you can't see her again."

"No, no one else dared me, it was... her."

"Fine."

She started kissing him, then stopped and grabbed his jaw.

"Oh, and one more thing – every time you're with her, I want gifts."

"Okay."

She licked his lips and continued with her business.

It wasn't like Sam was poor, but there wouldn't be any repeats, right?

_Not with the way the dude was running away yesterday..._


	7. Chapter 7

His Name is Beloved

Dave made a point to avoid Sam after that. For the first few days, it worked, but then he realized if anyone figured out he was _avoiding_ Sam, they would know something was up. Dave was one to be vocal (and physical) with his problems, so it wouldn't be hard for them to conclude that Dave didn't want to face Sam for some reason, and if they went and asked Sam... No, he couldn't let that happen. So instead he looked away when Sam nodded in the hallways. Azimio didn't say anything, he just started doing the same thing. When Dave wasn't there, his friend slushied Sam. He almost punched Azimio when he heard. Instead, he laughed and high-fived him. He wouldn't have laughed if he'd known that Sam would catch up with him after school.

"Are you stalking me now?" Dave asked. He pulled on his shirt. Why was he embarrassed? He changed in front of other guys almost every day – was it different all of a sudden because he knew Sam liked dudes? _Fucking queer._

"Dude, why are you avoiding me? It's making me nervous, like you're going to go tell someone..."

Dave closed his locker. "I'm not going to tell anyone about what you like in bed."

"Yeah, well it's not like you're straight, either," Sam hissed. He looked around quickly to see if someone was hiding behind the lockers. "Do you wanna come over and play video games?"

"To your house?"

Sam nodded.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Look, nothing sexual -" Dave blushed - "I just thought we could hang..."

_Like I can just go over to his house and hang out. Very inconspicuous, Sam._

"Sure."

Sam's face broke out into a smile, and Dave looked away.

"Just follow me in your car, okay?"

"Fine."

The drive to Sam's subdivision was actually pretty short – Dave had been to the area before, a couple of cheerleaders lived around there, so there were parties every so often. Dave felt sick to his stomach as he walked up to Sam's door.

"Hey, Mom?" Sam called out. "I brought a friend home!"

"Oh, you're back from baseball practice?" Mrs. Evans had the same blonde hair as Sam, but she was much better at hiding her roots. She also had his mouth. "Do you want some snacks, or..."

"Yeah, just bring up some Mountain Dews. Do you like Mountain Dew?" he asked Dave.

"Yeah, Mountain Dew's good. Do you have Doritos?" Not that he was thirsty or anything, but he might want something to eat.

"Of course!"

"The video games are in my room," Sam said.

"Okay."

Sam's room was messy (not meticulously clean like Dave's), but there was a 24-inch screen TV next to a bookshelf filled with video-games. Sam shoved a pile of dirty (clean?) clothes aside and patted the ground next to him before picking up a controller.

"So what's with the snacks?" Dave asked. "That shit only happens in movies."

"It's like a code," Sam said. "If I say no, I want alone time with my friends; if I say yes, it's just friends or whatever."

"Platonic."

"Is that Latin?"

"No, it means something isn't romantic or sexual."

"Oooh."

"So why did she ask – did you tell your parents about me?"

"No! I'm out to my family, okay? And you know what? They're really cool about it. Mom was a part of PFLAG back home – Dad was too busy, though, but he's cool about it, too. They know not everyone is going to want to get outed when I bring them home, so we just have a system."

"As long as they don't know about me."

"They won't. They don't ask questions."

"That's nice." Dave picked up a controller and wished his parents would feel the same way – not that he was going to come out. Ever.

Mrs. Evans came in and dropped off the soda and chips; Sam turned on the game: Mario Kart. Dave picked Mario and Sam picked Donkey Kong.

"Go, little plumber, go!" Dave urged as they raced.

"You know, I used to think Mario was a pizza delivery guy."

_He is as dumb as a box of rocks._ That didn't keep Sam from kicking his ass in every single game.

"So what's with the Star Wars paraphernalia?" Dave asked, picking up a can of Mountain Dew.

"What does Star Wars have to do with ghosts?" Sam asked.

"That's paranormal, Sam."

"Oh. What did you say?"

"Paraphernalia; it means like... stuff."

"Then why didn't you say stuff?"

"Paraphernalia is my favorite word, okay? Dig it."

"I really like Star Wars – and Star Trek, and Starship Troopers..."

"Space?"

"I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid, but then I realized I was sort of too stupid to do it."

"You're not _that_ dumb," Dave lied.

"Yeah, but I'm not smart in the right places," Sam said. "I'm good at different things."

He smiled, and Dave kissed him. He put a hand on Sam chin (people did that in movies, right?), but his eyes were scrunched closed, and he shook until Sam started kissing him back. He bit Dave's lip, and when Dave ran a hand over his shirt, he made a soft sound in his throat.

_Fuck, that's hot._

He pushed Sam onto the floor and opened his eyes.

_I can't do this._

"You're not gonna run away again, are you?" Sam asked. His hand was wrapped around Dave's wrist – Dave's hand was on his chest.

Dave sat up, and Sam followed suit.

"Just one more game?" he asked Dave. "You don't have to go."

"I -"

_I can't do this._

"I have to go anyways. I texted my parents where I was gonna be, but I have homework and stuff." He couldn't look at Sam.

"Okay," Sam said quietly.

Dave walked out, still shaking. When he got back to his truck, he touched his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

His Name is Beloved

Sam didn't watch Dave walk out to his car; he just sat on the floor staring at the Doritos and Mountain Dew. He knew that relationships with closeted people – _this is __**not**__ a relationship_, Sam thought – were hard on people, and it had to be much tougher with Dave because he hadn't accepted himself let alone tried to get anyone else to accept him, Sam _knew_ that, but it still hurt.

_That look on his face..._ Sam liked kissing Dave, having him touch Sam's chest (even if his shirt was still on). He didn't want it to go anywhere serious, just making out with the guy was nice, but when Dave push him down... They'd both opened their eyes, and for a second, he looked great. Then Dave looked surprised – then scared. Now Sam felt like he did something wrong.

Sam bit into a Dorito – he had orange dust on his shirt from where Dave had touched him. He was willing to bet Dave had some on his wrist, too. His mom would kill him if he left food in his room, so he returned the chips and soda to the kitchen and picked up some paper towels to wipe off the controllers. When he was done, he collapsed on his bed, methodically tapping the side of his fist on his forehead.

He'd kissed Karofsky. Big whoop. Then Dave ran away. Shit. Sam was a guy who liked serious relationships, which was rare in high school, but he'd never had a string of bad luck like this: Quinn cheated on him, Santana thought of him as a placeholder at worst or a tool at best, and Dave ran away from him. Twice. Sam didn't have any real drama with James last year or Annabel two years before that. It had to be him – what had changed about him?

_Oh, right_, he thought, _I suddenly care about popularity, and I'm in the closet._ Sam knew coming out of the closet would just make things with Dave worse; the guy only trusted him because the hockey player could out him, too. So what was he supposed to do?

In the Macy's, Sam looked at the jewelry counter. Santana liked necklaces more than earrings, and she didn't wear rings. He ended up buying a silver key that had a heart on it; it was seventy dollars.

_Seventy bucks for what, a couple of kisses?_ Sam thought to himself. Maybe staying away from Dave for a while would be good.

"Are you going to tell me who she is?" Santana asked as she examined the necklace.

"After what you tried to do to Lauren?"

She pursed her lips. "Fine." She put the necklace on, then stood up to wrap her arms around him. "If you ever have sex with her," she whispered, "I expect something really expensive. And it better be after you and I fuck."

Kissing her was very different from kissing Dave, but it was usually that way with kissing boys and girls, at least for Sam. Santana was confident and definitely more experienced than Dave. She was softer, more subtle in her movements. He also knew she wouldn't run away. Maybe because of that, he was rougher with her, more direct. He bit her neck and kneaded her breast, popping it out of her bra and shirt before teasing it. She let out a satisfied sigh and gave him a throaty laugh. She propped her hands on his back, sliding them down then into his pants, grabbing at his ass. Yes, Santana was much more direct than Dave. Not only did she get what she wanted but she knew what to do with it when she had it, too.


	9. Chapter 9

His Name is Beloved

For a week, Dave couldn't decide between staying away from Sam and following him. He wanted to forget it ever happened and go up and apologize. _Sorry I'm a fucking queer. Sorry I'm a coward who can't stand myself. Sorry I don't have any self-control. Sorry I'm a freak. _Everything sounded stupid in his head, so if he got to close, he shuttled past or turned around. Saturday night, after winning the hockey game, he felt confident. He wanted to talk to Sam, but he didn't have the guy's number. It wasn't too late, only nine, so he drove over, still hung over on happiness.

Luckily, Sam answered the door. Sam smiled, but it wasn't a huge smile, not like the one he used to have plastered to his face.

"I wanted to say I'm -"

"Let's talk about this upstairs, okay?" Sam said.

"Yeah, sure."

"Who is it, Sam?" Mr. Evans called.

"My friend David," Sam answered. "We're gonna go hang out."

"If you need anything, just ask."

In his room, Sam sat on his bed. Dave sat on a chair in front of Sam's desk. This week, the room was clean. Then Dave saw the opened package of condoms on the nightstand.

"You had sex with Santana."

Sam blushed and shrugged. "She's my girlfriend."

"Does she know about..." He wasn't sure what to say.

"... what happened?" Sam finished. Dave nodded. "She knows I kissed someone else. All she said was that I have to buy her a gift every time I'm with... them."

"I don't want you to fuck her."

"Jealous?" The smile was back.

"No!" Dave crossed his arms.

Sam kissed him, his hands very lightly resting on Dave's chin.

"You can't be homophobic and grossed out by straight sex – unless you're asexual, I guess."

"Fine! I don't like thinking about you and her."

"You didn't mind last week. What did you think would happen, I would dump her and stand outside your window with a boombox?" Dave blushed. "Look, Santana doesn't care about us except for her image, and if you want to stay in the closet, this is the perfect cover, isn't it?"

"Is this going to turn into a thing?" Dave asked quietly.

"Do you want it to?"

That was the problem. Dave wanted to say yes, at the moment he honestly believed he would work through all of his problems and it would be over in a week. He couldn't get his mouth to work; he was too scared. He nodded, instead, and Sam leaned in again. He didn't kiss Dave, though, he just sat there, looking into Dave's eyes. Dave had always thought they were blue, but up close, he could see that they were this green sort of gray. He started shaking – was he really going to do this?

"Are you going to run away tonight?" Sam asked. "Because that made me feel like shit."

Why wasn't Sam blinking? He couldn't move until Sam blinked.

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed, I just... I have problems. You know that."

"Yeah. I guess there aren't any excuses after tonight, huh?"

Sam's lips were soft. His hands weren't, as Dave found out when he dug them into Dave's hair. Dave didn't have to push Sam onto the bed because he pulled Dave on top of him. Kneeling over the blonde, Dave slid his hand over Sam's abs (under the shirt this time!). Sam grunted and broke the kiss, going for Dave's neck.

"Sam," Dave said quietly.

"Mm."

"Sam, you can't mark my skin."

"Everyone will just think you hooked up with someone."

"Yeah, and I won't be able to say who."

"Fine." Sam bit his neck playfully. "What about on your chest?"

Dave blushed thinking about Sam sucking on his chest. He wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed of the boner he was getting or just go with the flow.

"Locker room after practice."

"Oh, right. You know," he whispered, "I know a place they wouldn't think to look..."

"_Sam_..."

"Like you haven't thought about it."

He was definitely embarrassed now. Sam let go of him and laid down. Dave followed suit but face-down with an arm draped over Sam.

"Do you like me, David?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do you, y'know, _like_ me?"

Dave hid his face with his arms.

"Yeah," he answered. "I think you're adorable – and brave and strong and talented and dorky." He swallowed. "And s-s-" He couldn't say it.

"I get it."

Dave peeked at him through the crook of his elbow.

"Really?"

"I like you, too. I guess we frustrate each other sometimes, right?"

Dave nodded.

"You don't have to be scared around me, okay?"

Dave nodded, and he knew Sam couldn't see it, but he was grinning as widely as he could.


	10. Chapter 10

His Name is Beloved

"Do you ever hold hands?" Dave asked him.

They were lying on Sam's bed, and Dave was playing with Sam's hand.

"I haven't held hands with anyone since seventh grade. Why?"

"I noticed you don't hold Santana's hand in the halls, then I thought I never saw you hold Fabray's hand, either."

Sam rolled over to face Dave, careful not to pull his hand away. "Do you want to hold hands?"

"No!" He dropped Sam's hand immediately. "Holding hands is for girls."

"What? Oh, please. You've never held hands, have you?"

"No, 'cause it's for girls."

"I like holding hands."

"Then why haven't you done it?"

"I upgraded to cuddling."

"Even with guys?"

"Cuddling is amazing."

"Fucking queer is what it is."

Sam frowned. "You're not allowed to say slurs in my house: not the N-word, not 'retard,' not 'dyke,' not 'faggot,' none of that stuff. I don't want you to say it outside here, either, okay?"

"Whatever." Dave looked away.

So Sam kissed him. It wasn't sweet or gentle like he usually kissed Dave; it was hard and fast, all pressure and desire. He glared at Dave when he pulled away.

"Are you going to call me a fag?"

"No..."

"You don't get to insult something just because you don't like it or because you think it'll hurt your image as some macho straight guy, okay?"

"I'm sorry..." He bit his lip.

"Then act like it! I know you can be better than this, okay?" Sam kissed him again, soft and chaste this time.

"You know, I've never cuddled with anyone, either," Dave mumbled.

Sam pulled the larger boy close, so Dave's head was nestled under his against his shoulder. It was peaceful, for a minute. Sam listened to Dave breathing, felt his body heat, heard his heartbeat. Then Dave jerked back.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Why me?" Sam countered. "Because I like guys, because I'm _here_?"

"Well, I first noticed you because of your mouth."

"I give up."

"What?"

"You know," Sam said, "when I first got into glee, Puckerman asked me how many tennis balls I could fit into my mouth."

Dave laughed. "What'd you say?"

"I said I'd never had balls in my mouth. Then I asked if he had."

"Is that true?"

"Which part?"

"That you've never sucked a guy off."

"Yeah."

"So, you're the pitcher."

"I may not ever have had sex with a dude, but even I know that it doesn't work that way."

"What d'you mean?"

"It's not 'Oh, I'm the man.' They're both guys, that's why it's gay-male sex." Sam ruffled his hair. "Everyone things that this mouth is going to make me good at giving oral, though."

"Do you think so?"

"Well, if I believe my aunt, my mom was the blow job queen in high school, so there could be some truth to it."

"You're good at kissing."

Sam smiled. "You are, too."

"Don't lie; I suck at it."

"You're a fast learner, though." He leaned in. "Practice makes perfect."

They kissed, and Dave ran his tongue over Sam's bottom lip. Maybe Sam hadn't actually sucked a guy's cock before, but that didn't mean he didn't want to. Dave's wide, strong hands were caressing his face, his body pressing up against Sam's.

"Sam?" His voice was quiet again. He was usually quiet when he was around Sam – Sam wished it were because he was sensitive, but he suspected he was scared.

"Yeah?" Sam's voice, however, was low and rough. He thought about that woman in China who stomped a kitten to death. _That's a horrible boner cure. I need to find a new one. _He started kissing Dave's throat.

"Can you not buy Santana a gift this time?"

"Are you jealous?" He hoped Dave was. He wanted him to say it, too – some people weren't the jealous type, but he couldn't imagine that for Dave, and if Dave wasn't jealous... then maybe Sam didn't mean as much to him as he said.

"No, it's just that... If you buy her something every time I'm here, and she hears about me coming over a lot..."

"Oh, yeah. Right."

"Thanks."

_I don't want to be thanked._


	11. Chapter 11

His Name is Beloved

Slowly, Dave saw his grades go back up. His parents smiled more; he played with Timmy, helping him build model cars. Sam came over to his house a couple of times, and Timmy took to him immediately. They played board games, practiced baseball, helped Timmy with his homework, and watched a show called Doctor Who. Dave sometimes found it hard to understand the accents, but Timmy took to the show immediately.

"The Doctor's really smart!" he gushed. "He knows _everything_!"

"Not everything," Dave said, "but yeah."

"We should make a TARDIS!"

"A life-sized one?" Dave asked. He doubted they'd be able to get their hands on that much lumber.

"No, a little one! For Sam. And it'll unfold so that it looks like the inside casing, then you can put the middle bits on top."

"Are you sure you know how to do that much?" He ruffled his little brother's hair.

"I can try! Dad'll help so we get it right the first time."

"Okay. Wait, why d'you wanna build Sam a TARDIS?"

"Sam's really nice," Timmy explained. "He's cool. He's the only person I know who can do a Darth Vader impression without a paper towel roll!"

Dave laughed. "Okay, let's build my – my friend a TARDIS."

_I almost called Sam my boyfriend. Fuck. Fuck!_ Part of his liked the idea, but he couldn't let it happen, he just couldn't.

Dave saw Sam a little less as he got ready for Regionals. He and Santana had a duet together (something from a Broadway show called "Rent"), and they were practicing at his house. Sam said it was because Santana couldn't stay in her house when she felt pressured. Dave thought it was because they were having sex after their practice sessions, but he didn't want to bring that up with Sam. Instead of going to Sam's house, Sam came over to Dave's more often. For a whole week, Dave didn't see Sam outside of school at all.

"When's Sam coming over?" Timmy complained. "We finished the TARDIS two days ago; I want to give it to him!"

"I don't know, champ."

_Shit. He comes over too much. _Dave didn't want to go over to Sam's too much, and he didn't want Sam to come over too much. They couldn't go out places. What were they supposed to do? He couldn't think of anything.

The Sunday before Regionals, Sam came over. Dave smiled when he saw him.

"Do you have that number down with Santana?"

"The singing, yeah. We've been working nonstop. I've barely spoken all week. We need to work on the dancing, though – it's hard to dance and sing at the same time with everyone around us. Rachel and Schuester are driving us like dogs."

"Do you want something to drink?" He led the blonde in.

"Sam!" Timmy waved to the quarterback.

"Hey, Tim!"

"Wait here, Sam, Dave and I made something for you!" He raced up to his room.

Sam gave Dave a questioning look.

"Can't tell you. It was his idea, though. He loves building stuff."

They sat down on the couch.

"Do you want anything?"

"I... just water, I guess. I can't have too much sugar; it's bad for your throat."

"You know what I hear's good for your throat?"

"What?"

Dave leaned in. "Cock."

Sam punched him in the arm. "Come on, be serious." Then he whispered, "but if we win, you can probably expect something."

Timmy came down the stairs holding the ten-inch tall blue box.

"Oh my god, you guys built a TARDIS?" He'd slipped into a Scottish accent.

_How do you make nerdy hot like that?_ Dave wondered.

"Open it! Open it!" Timmy said, placing it carefully on the ground.

"How?"

"Like this." He took out a small key, opened the double doors, flipped the top, and unfolded the "inside" of the TARDIS. Right in the middle of all that poster-paper stood the TARDIS's controls.

"Oh my god! This is amazing! This is so cool!"

"Thanks," Timmy said quietly. "We worked really hard on it."

"I can't believe you're giving it to me."

"I have another one, but it's a little messed up," Timmy explained. "I want to fix it."

They all talked about Doctor Who for a while, but then Dave made some excuse to drag Sam up to his room. He closed the door, and Sam slammed him up against it, smashing their lips together.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, dork."

"Excuse me, which one of us built a TARDIS?" Still, Sam reached for Dave's pant zipper.

"Does that turn you on? Should I start calling you 'Doctor'?"

"Oh, no, you should call me Captain Jack."

Dave giggled.

"Oh, awkward..."

"What?"

"Your penis is bigger than mine."

Dave's jaw dropped. "No way. I wanna see!"

"No..."

"You had to know I was going to ask, Sam."

"I just... I don't want you to be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed that you let me see your dick?" He put his arms over Dave's shoulders. "I bet it's the sexiest penis in the world."

"That is not something I thought I would ever hear coming out of anyone's mouth," Sam said, kissing Dave. He slid Dave's cock out of his pants, teasing it.

"Fuck," Dave said breathlessly.

Sam leaned in as he was working it and whispered, "You know, I think I like it."

"You better," Dave growled.

"I hope we win Regionals."

"Sam..."

This would be exactly like one of Dave's fantasies if they were in his pick-up truck and Dave knew they were going to go further. Sam started to move faster. God, he wished Sam won Regionals. His breathing got heavier, and it became harder and harder not to moan. He didn't want that, though, he wanted to be sexy and cool, like in the movies.

"Oh, god, Sam," he hissed.

"You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?"

"Sam, I'm gonna – gonna -"

"I know."

He came harder than he had before, but he expected that – well, he would have if he'd known what Sam was going to do. Dave blushed as he cleaned up, but Sam laid on his bed.

"I want you to come to Regionals."

"Sam, I can't."

"Why not? Sue is making her Cheerios go. She's trying to humiliate us. She thinks Vocal Adrenaline is gonna win. Her Cheerios are bringing their boyfriends – a lot of them are football players. Come on."

"Maybe."

"I want you to apologize to Kurt."

"What? No! No! I'm apologizing to that fag."

"Don't say that word!" Sam sat up.

"What? It's my house."

"Then I'm not welcome here."

"Sam, don't go!"

"I don't want to hear you say shit like that." Sam frowned. "I want you to say sorry to Kurt. When you say crap like that, you're not just hurting him, you're hurting me. You know that."

"I'm sorry!"

"Then say that to him!"

They stared at each other, then Dave looked away.

"I can't."

"Then I can't stay."


	12. Chapter 12

His Name is Beloved

Sam remembered last year (and the year before that, because Mr. Erikson always opened the LGBT-SA club's first meeting with the same speech), when everyone talked about bullying.

"These words," Mr. Erikson said, "are not allowed in this school. In here, we might talk about these words and how people use them, but all of you should know that no one is allowed to use them against anyone in school. I want every single one of you to know that if anyone bullies you, if they use a slur or they try to hurt you or insult you, that you can come to me. Principal Appleman has promised us that if anyone of you is bullied, we can go straight to her, and she will take care of it. We don't have to go to an administrator and get paperwork filed, we can go to her. She has promised the safety of each and every one of you."

Sam wished he could have that back. Even if he wasn't getting pounded for actually liking dudes – and the number of slushies being thrown in his face had gone down since football season ended – he wished he didn't have to deal with it. He wished Kurt didn't, either. Sam had never been bullied, not like Kurt, and that was going to make it even harder for Sam to ask Kurt to meet with David.

He apologized to Sam on Wednesday, and Sam could see him sitting in the audience with Azimio with the Cheerios and football players. Vocal Adrenaline was playing first, then the Warblers, and New Directions would go last. All anyone could talk about backstage was how Coach Sue had brought an entourage.

"Well, I for one think it's a wonderful opportunity to showcase our talent and earn their respect," Rachel said.

"Yeah, not if we lose." Tina's arms were crossed.

"Guys, guys! We'll do fine." Finn smiled at them. "We've been working harder than ever! We have original music, thanks to Rachel. We'll do great!"

"I know we're going to do better than the Warblers." Mercedes was fuming.

"Why? We tied with them at Sectionals, how do you know?" Quinn asked.

"Because Kurt and Blaine have a duet, and Kurt's going to mess up."

"What? Why?" Finn asked.

"Karofsky's in the audience."

Finn dashed out of the room towards the Warbler's room – Sam followed.

"Hey, are you okay?" Finn asked Kurt.

"Yeah, yeah..." He was staring at the floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"I'm going to have to ask you two to leave," an Asian Warbler said.

"No, it's cool, Wes," Blaine said. He tugged at Kurt's arm; Kurt stood up and the four boys walked out into the hall.

"Why is he here?" Kurt asked.

"Sue told her Cheerios to come... She wants to humiliate New Directions. The Cheerios brought their football boyfriends, who brought their friends," Finn explained.

"Nothing's going to happen, Kurt," Sam promised.

"Don't worry," Blaine said. "Look, the Warblers will keep you safe, and New Directions will make sure he stays away from you." He shot a look at Finn, who nodded.

"We got this," Finn added.

"Don't – don't let Dad find out he's here, okay?"

"Okay."

"Thanks for coming over, guys." Kurt hugged Finn.

Finn walked away, but Sam stayed.

"Did you want something, Sam?"

Now was not the time to get choked up.

"Dave wants to apologize."

For a minute, all that was on the Warblers' faces was shock. Then Kurt sprung into action.

"Did you ask him to come here?" he hissed.

"Yes."

"Oh, you just wanted _so_ badly to win -"

"Kurt, it's not like that! Look, I feel guilty that I didn't help you more when you were at McKinley. I didn't even noticed what he was doing, and I should have done something about it, okay? Since you left, I've been trying to make things better."

"Oh, please, Sam. Do you even know what he did?"

"I know he kissed you, and I know he's gay." Sam held out his hand. "He's sorry. I don't know if he's ever going to forgive himself – I don't know if he should. Please just let him apologize."

"No."

"Kurt, maybe you should give him a chance," Blaine cut in. "He's probably really scared -"

"_I'm_ scared!"

"I just want you to think about it, okay?" Sam begged. "We'd do everything on your terms – we could even meet up in a police station if you want."

"Just go back to your room, Sam."

Kurt stalked off. Sam hung his head.

"Sam?" Blaine asked. "I think you're doing the right thing, but Kurt's not ready yet."

"I know." He slicked back his hair. "I'm so _stupid_ sometimes."

"No, it's fine. We'll take care of Kurt. Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is this so important to you?"

"I... You can tell Kurt, but tell him not to tell anyone else. I'm bi. At my last school, I was out, and -"

"And it caused you problems?"

Sam laughed. "No! No... there was the LGBT-Straight Alliance. No one got bullied; no one even cared. It was awesome. Then I moved out here, I was really nervous about fitting in, about being liked... When Kurt was there, I told myself that it didn't matter, that I didn't really have to be super-out or anything, that it was my business... But then we found out about Dave bullying him. I felt like shit, I really did. I could've done something more, Blaine, but I didn't."

"You're not alone, Sam. I'm sure Kurt will understand the pressure you're under. Besides, you're doing the right thing now, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled at the soloist.

"I better go; we're on in two."

"Good luck! Tell Kurt I said so, too."


	13. Chapter 13

His Name is Beloved

One point was the difference between a pity party and a blow job. Despite how lame the preps and jocks thought show choir was and how many times they'd thrown slushies at the kids in glee, the night was all about McKinley High pride after New Directions found out they were going to Nationals. The glee kids didn't drink that night (well, maybe Santana and Puck did, but Dave wasn't entirely sure), but Sam still managed to meet Dave as he came out of the bathroom.

"I'm leaving in five minutes, you wanna follow along?"

"Yeah."

Dave didn't go through the front door like Sam did – he was parked out back. He was right behind Sam's car at the first intersection, though. Sam led them to the school parking lot.

_Do I go to his car, or –_ but Sam was already heading towards Dave's car. Sam was already kissing him as he hoisted himself onto Dave's lap. Dave clapped his hands over Sam's ass, the muscles in his legs tightening. Sam released the seat, knocking them back as it fell. They laughed; Dave nursed the back of his head. Sam unzipped his pants.

_This is really happening._

Sam took Dave' shaft in his hand, and licked the head. Dave swore, one leg bucking. Sam laughed, fitting about half of Dave' cock in his mouth. Dave dug his hands into Sam's hair while Sam start massaging the other half.

The lips he'd obsessed over ran back and forth over his shaft, the tongue he'd fantasized about was teasing his head. He couldn't pay attention to the sounds coming out of his mouth. Sam stretched his tongue out, pulling Dave deeper into his mouth – but Sam choked. His throat constricted painfully, and Dave hissed. Sam tried again, but his face screwed up when he gagged. Third time really was the charm, Dave struggled not to come when Sam _swallowed_ his dick.

"Oh, god, Sam... Fuck!" _The sounds coming out of his mouth... shit... Where'd he learn to give head like this?_

Sam moved faster, sucked harder, and Dave moaned louder.

"Sam, Sam I'm gonna – gonna..."

Watching Sam slide Dave's dick out of his mouth was the hottest thing Dave had ever seen. Sam climbed back on top of him, fixing his pants before he sat back down on Dave's lap. They kissed for a little bit, but Sam just ended up curling his fingers through Dave's and lying back on him.

"So am I still a virgin or...?"

"You know," Sam said, "I don't think you are, but if you think differently, that's up to you."

Dave kissed the crook of Sam's neck. "I don't think I am."

Sam smiled. "You know, I won't be able to sing for days."

Dave started laughing. "You choked on my dick."

Sam sucker-punched him in the arm. "That isn't funny, okay! I never gave anyone a blowjob before; I didn't know how to deep throat."

"Is your throat supposed to get sore after that?"

"I don't know; I'll ask my mom."

"Can't you just Google it, though?"

"Wow, your family is _way_ different from mine."

"Are you still scared?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You're not going to go home, feel guilty, then avoid me for two weeks, are you?"

Dave's throat went dry. "No..."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

Sam slid his arms around the back of Dave's head, and rested his forehead on Dave's.

"I feel like shit when you run off like that."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to be better." He looked into Sam's eyes. "I just... Everything changed so fast. I don't know how to deal with myself sometimes. I can't – I can't believe someone as amazing as you would want me."

"You're worth it." They kissed again, Sam's arms still around Dave's head. "Kurt called me. He said maybe next week you and I and him and Blaine can meet for coffee and talk."

"I can't be seen in public with -"

"What better way to prove you're sorry? Don't worry about how it looks, just do it."

"Sam, what if he won't forgive me?"

"He will."

"But what if he doesn't? What if I m-mess up or I freak out and run away?"

"I'll be there."

"I can't do it, Sam, I can't!"

He was ashamed, but he cried anyways.

"What if he doesn't forgive me, Sam?"

"What if you can't forgive yourself?"

He didn't say anything; he just held back a sob.

"Dave, you'll be okay. I promise."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're stronger than you think." Sam squeezed his hand. "I'll be there every step of the way."

"Promise?"

"Promise."


	14. Chapter 14

His Name is Beloved

"I'm expecting a gift soon." Santana's mouth was a hard line. "In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I should have one already."

Sam was driving her home after glee practice on Monday.

"Fine. I'll buy it tonight. I was just sick Sunday -"

"Oh, bullshit. I've heard that sore throat and that excuse enough to know that it's from giving head." She smirked. "Either you're really bad or really inexperienced. They might be the same thing, though."

Sam tried to laugh, but it still hurt. "You're crazy. I'm not gay."

"I didn't say you were. Are you paranoid about it, people calling you gay?"

_Yes._ "Why would I be?"

"Because I happen to know that just as I watched you leave, Brittany saw someone else on the football team leaving. I also know that you left surprisingly early and that you weren't home until two hours after you left."

"Alright, Santana, I'll play. Who do you think I'm fucking?"

"Karofsky. Which is weird, because the last I heard, Finn was digging at him for never having a girlfriend... and running off our friend."

"Oh, so Kurt's your friend?"

"Let's stay on subject." Her smile was curved like the edges of a poster. "You know, I haven't actually fucked Karofsky. How big is he?"

"I'm not having sex with him." _I should have called him a name._

"Then who's the girl you _are_ fucking?"

"You think I want to tell you her name after what you tried to do to Lauren?"

"Look, tell me who it is, or I start a vicious rumor about you and Karofsky anyways."

"Like anyone would believe that."

"They won't when he freaks out and punches your pretty face in to prove just how _straight_ he is."

"You're a horrible bitch."

"I want to know who you're fucking."

"Fine! Yes! It's Dave." He rested his forehead on the steering wheel. "Shit! Santana, why do you have to ruin everything? Can't people just have secrets? We had a deal!"

"Now I have another one."

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to work on a number with Artie."

"Why?"

"So I can work on one with Brittany. We don't get enough girl time anymore."

Sam scoffed. "Oh, please. Your 'girl-time' is just you two making out."

Santana frowned.

"I bet you two don't even care if you're dating someone else or not."

"I just want my best friend back for a week, okay?"

"I'll do it." He swiped some blonde hair out of his eyes. "You promise you won't tell anyone _ever_?"

"Ever." She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

The good thing was that Dave came to visit him on Wednesday.

"Your voice is still off," he said, leaning forward, "but it sounds totally sexy. Did you ask your mom about it?"

"Uh, no, I got advice from someone else."

"What?"

"Santana knows about us."

For a long time, they were silent. Sam watched the shock register on Dave's face, then the fear. Then Dave crumpled into a ball on the floor. He wasn't crying, at least Sam didn't think he was. When he checked, Dave just stared at him with dry eyes.

"Sam."

"She won't tell."

"Sam, I want to punch you."

"I made her promise!"

"How could you have told her!"

"She figured it out on her own!"

"She's going to tell people, Sam!"

"I worked out a deal, okay?"

"Yeah, that's what you said about cheating on her!"

"She promised!"

"How much does that mean, exactly?"

Sam couldn't answer him, and that's when the tears came.

"Fuck, Sam!"

"Sh..."

"Get off me!" Dave sat up. "Why can't anything work out for me?"

"Come on, it'll work out." Sam tried to smile for him.

"If – if she ever told – Sam, Sam, I would die."

"You wouldn't die; you'd get through it."

"No." He shook his head.

"You're stronger than you think." Sam wrapped his arms around Dave.

"Not strong enough for that."

Dave spent the night on Friday. It was the first time he'd done that. Dave was too nervous to do more than kiss, but Sam didn't care. Dave didn't even use the sleeping bag he'd brought; he fell asleep snuggling with Sam. When he woke up, Sam tried not to move. He didn't want to wake Dave up, too. Sam put on a brave face for Dave, convincing him that everything was going to be fine, but in reality, Sam was almost as scared as Dave. Kurt had every right to _not_ forgive Dave, but Sam knew how much Dave needed it. Sam nestled his head on Dave's shoulder.

_I love you._

The words surprised him. The worst part was that he couldn't tell Dave. Dave wasn't ready for it.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Something I've learned about myself – when I reply to reviews, I accidentally give out spoilers... How does that happen?**

His Name is Beloved

_How do I stop shaking?_ Dave asked himself as he walked into a coffee shop.

Sam had driven him all the way out to Westerville where the chance that Dave would be seen and recognized was small. Blaine and Kurt were already sitting down.

"Do you want me to get you something?" Sam asked.

"I can't do this."

"You can! Don't worry. You're already here, okay?" Sam reached for Dave's hand, but stopped. "We'll just get some coffee. Do you want a cookie?"

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

"You're just nervous."

"Can we just go, Sam?"

"Do you want to do this or not?" Sam put his hands on Dave's shoulders.

"No. Yes. Yes, I do."

"At least get some hot chocolate."

"It's nearly May; it's way too warm for hot chocolate."

"Pick something!"

"Fine, fine." Dave stared at the menu.

"Do you wanna share a cookie?"

"Sam..."

"We're miles and miles from Lima, Dave! No one here cares."

"I can't..."

"Okay." Sam's frown didn't stay for long, though.

The first thing Dave noticed when they sat down across from the Dalton boys was that Kurt was tapping his fingers on the table. It looked like he was playing piano with one hand. Kurt was just as nervous as he was – of course he was; it wasn't as if Dave hadn't terrorized him all year.

"Was the drive long?" Blaine asked.

"Not really." Sam went on to make more small talk. Kurt stared at Dave over the rim of his coffee cup. Dave tried to look everywhere but Kurt.

_He's not staring at me,_ he told himself, _there's just something really interesting behind me._ He was shaking again. _Shit._

Blaine's hand was resting on top of the table, and Kurt slid his fingers through Blaine's. Jealousy stabbed him. He wished he could do that with Sam; but there were all these people around, and one of them might recognize him – fuck, here he was sitting with Hummel (_Kurt_, he reminded himself) in a coffee shop with who, Kurt's boyfriend? Yeah, if anyone saw him, he was pretty screwed.

_I have to get out of here._ But then Sam looked at him with a big, goofy grin on his face.

"So last time I was at McKinley, you two were punching each other's lights out. What's changed?" Kurt asked.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. Life's hard enough, and I made your life harder to make mine easier. That's a total understatement, right? But I can't find the right words, nothing's – nothing's adequate." Dave looked at Kurt but only for a second because he was still scared of what he would see in those eyes. Fear? Hatred? Strength? Strength Dave wanted with all his heart. Under the table, Sam rested his hand on Dave's knee.

"Thank you, Dave," Kurt said quietly. He sipped his coffee. "That means a lot to me."

In the car, Dave sat in the passenger seat, staring at his hands. It felt weird to not be wearing his Letterman's jacket, but he didn't want anyone to know which school he went to.

Sam clasped Dave's hand. "I'm proud of you."

Dave tugged at Sam and kissed him. They were in Sam's car, and anyone could see, but just for a minute, Dave didn't want to care. Dave wanted to be strong like Kurt.

"Do you want to stay in town?" Sam asked between kisses. "We don't have to be back for a while."

"No."

"Please? I want a real date for once."

Dave blushed and pulled away from Sam. "A real date?"

"Yeah. All that stuff – flowers, chocolate, those goofy carnival games, milkshakes with two straws – the stuff you think is girly and lame? I really, really love that stuff."

"You want me to buy you flowers."

"Maybe I should buy _you_ flowers." Sam smiled as he kissed Dave's cheek.

"But we're _dudes_."

"So?"

"So it's weird."

"Should I buy you legos instead?"

Dave laughed. "No way."

"I'm totally going to buy you flowers."

"Don't you dare."

"Why? Will you throw them out?"

"How will I explain to my parents why I won't throw them out?"

"You'll like it, I promise."

"Oh, please."

"I'll show up at your door in a suit -"

"You wouldn't!"

"- holding a bouquet of roses -"

"Just kill me now."

"- and I'll bow and present them to you -"

"You're such a fucking gentleman."

"- and then you'll blush and slip me that shy smile that drives me wild -"

"Really? You like that?"

"- then we'll go into your room, you'll set them on the desk, and I'll let you have your way with me."

"You don't think it's stupid?"

"What?"

"When I get embarrassed and I smile, but I look away."

"I think it's cute."

"I – maybe we can go on a date."

"Really?" Sam's smile was like the sun; it brightened everything around it.

"Yeah, next Saturday."

"I'll bring you flowers."

"Don't."

"I will. Are we going to Westerville or Columbus?"

"Columbus."

"Okay."

"You're not really going to buy me flowers, are you?"

Sam only kissed him.


	16. Chapter 16

His Name is Beloved

Timmy was the one who snuck Sam in. He didn't know what Timmy thought about the suit and the flowers, but he knew that Dave could make something up later. Personally, he hoped that Timmy thought he and Dave were going on a double date.

"Where are you two going?" Timmy asked.

"We're sneaking out," Sam whispered.

"Is Dave going to wear a suit, too?"

"I told him to."

"With a bow tie or a tie?"

"I haven't seen him yet."

"The Doctor says bow ties are cool."

Sam smiled and ruffled Timmy's brown hair. Timmy was built a little like Dave, so he didn't look like the typical shy, geeky kids he hung out with. He'd taken to wearing fake glasses (as Ten sometimes did), and that helped a little.

"I'm glad you're here, Sam." Timmy hugged him.

"I'm happy to be here, Timmy. Thanks for helping me sneak in."

"It's cool." The middle-schooler blushed. "I hope you have a good time with David."

"Me, too."

Sam knocked on Dave's door and Timmy disappeared. A lopsided grin showed up when Sam saw his boyfriend, sleek and powerful in a gray suit and tie. Sam held out the orange roses (not a full bouquet, just five).

"I told you not the get flowers," Dave mumbled. He was blushing, though.

"Are you gonna take them?"

"Get in here."

Once the door was closed, Dave snatched the flowers from Sam, but once they were in his hands, he held the bunch gingerly. It was like he wasn't sure what to do with them.

"Smell them."

"They smell nice." There was that small, shy smile.

_God, why can't he be like this forever?_

Sam stepped closer to Dave, lifting up his chin with his left hand. He smelled like vanilla musk. "You smell nice."

"Have I told you how sexy you are in that suit?" Dave put the flowers down on his desk.

"No, but it bears repeating." Sam kissed the corner of Dave's jaw.

"W-well you do."

Sam kissed him on the mouth this time, giving those soft pecks that made Dave more aggressive. He loved it when Dave was rough; he wanted to feel that hungry pull inside the hockey player.

"Sam, we have to go to dinner."

Sam grinned as he pulled back, eyes bright.

"You _want_ to go!"

"I've been looking forward to this date all week."

He'd also been antsy and distracted; Sam had almost called it off on Thursday because of how nervous Dave seemed.

"Nothing's ever simple with you."

"This is my first date ever, Sam, okay?"

_I love you_.

"It'll be special; I promise." Sam grabbed Dave's left hand and brought it to his lips. Dave turned crimson faster than a Christmas light.

"Cut the fruity stuff – can we go now?" Dave spun around.

"In a second." Sam drew him into his arms. "Maybe it's going to be fancy, not the dinner-and-a-movie everyone's used to; maybe we won't hold hands over the table or kiss in front of the server; maybe hem and haw and freak out a little even though we'll be two hours away from Lima, but we'll still be eating dinner together; we'll still be talking, and it'll still be special. You mean a lot to me."

"You – you me-mean – I mean, I-I like..." But Dave didn't finish his sentence, so Sam nodded.

"I know; you, too."

"Why can't I say it, Sam?" He squeezed Sam's hands. "I want to, I just... I can't."

"You'll say it when you're ready."

Dave twisted around and pulled Sam into a kiss.

"I l-like you. A lot." Dave was shaking.

In Columbus, Dave was free. Even in his own room, Dave constantly looked over his shoulder when he and Sam talked, as if he parents would burst in and declare him a flaming homosexual for having another guy sitting on his bed. In Columbus, Dave didn't care as much. Sam was caught off-guard when Dave held his hand walking back to the car. What would Dave be like in two years when they were freshmen in college?

"Can we go back to your place?" Dave asked when they were almost in Lima.

"Sure. Why?"

"I don't want it to be over yet."

"When you do go back, the flowers are still there."

"I'd better jack one of mom's vases. I have no idea where I'll put them, though."

They were making out on Sam's bed. Dave reached back and started rub a hand over Sam's crotch bulge.

"Mm... Dave, not in the suit."

"Take the suit off, then."

"You're still wearing a suit."

"What, you want me to take it off?"

"Yes."

"Okay, but I get to take yours off, too."

Sam bit his lip when he watched Dave undress. Which was better, to touch or be touched? He didn't know, but his body was on fire when Dave slowly – almost too slowly – unbuttoned his shirt and slid his trousers down his legs.

_Fuck underwear._ They were still wearing theirs, yet when Dave went to have another go at Sam's bulge, he slid his hand into Sam's boxers. Dave whipped it out; every hair on Sam's body stood up. Dave's thumb circled the head, then his hand jutted down.

"Like that?" Dave asked.

"Yes," Sam answered through gritted teeth.

David's techniques – hand shape, focus spots, speed – were different from Sam's, but it was so much better with Dave's lips still on him, with his husky voice whispering encouragement, his heavy body on Sam's.

"God, you know what you want, don't you?" Sam asked.

"I want to fuck you."

"Do it."

"H-how?"

"I have condoms and lube in that drawer."

Dave pulled out a condom and a bottle, then looked to Sam. "I don't know how to put on a condom."

"Take off your boxers, and I'll show you." Sam ripped the tiny package open. "Never put 'em in your wallet or pocket. If they heat up, they won't work as well, same thing if they get creased. Don't use oil-based lube, 'cause they'll break." Dave nodded, and Sam unrolled it a bit. "You always need a little air at the top. One more thing," Sam ran a finger down the length of Dave's cock, "you have to be hard when you put it on."

Just a few seconds, then Sam rolled it on, Dave staring down at his erection.

"Next time, I'll put it on with my mouth," Sam teased.

"You can do that?"

"It's something I've always wanted to do." Sam picked up the bottle of lube. "A lot of condoms come with lube already, but you should add more. If they don't have lube, you need to use lube so they don't break." Dave nodded and watched Sam's hands wipe lube all over his already hardened penis.

"Fuck," he hissed.

"What d'you wanna do?"

"I want – I want to push you down fuck you till you scream."

Despite that, Dave tried to be gentle when he pushed himself into Sam. He pulled back slowly, the pushed again.

"Press down a little."

"Right there?"

"Yeah."

Sam had noticed that Dave had a thing for pulling Sam's hair, but he still wasn't expecting it when Dave grabbed a handful and shoved Sam cheek into his pillow. Fuck, he loved it when Dave was aggressive. The new position allowed Dave to go deeper; the length of his was always on that spot. It was almost painful how slow Dave was going. Sometimes it was about the teasing, not the pleasing. The first time Dave actually thrust into him, Sam moaned and spasmed, but Dave's hand didn't moved from the back of his head. He ended up begging Dave to go faster, to fuck him harder.

"Why?" Dave taunted. "Tell me why you want me to."

"Dave... Dave, I want your cock. Right there – ah, yes, faster, faster please!"

Dave came, but Sam didn't. Panting, Sam explained that Dave had to hold the condom onto his dick as he pulled out, otherwise it would fall off and the contents would spill everywhere. Dave dumped it in Sam's trash can, then stared at it. When he looked up, his eyes immediately went for the door.

"You're not leaving yet, Dave," Sam said in a panicked voice. "People who fuck me and leave like that don't get the chance to do it again." Dave nodded and walked over to the bed.

"I just... I had sex with a guy."

"You had sex with someone you care about."

Dave ran his fingers back and forth nervously through his hair. "It's just... if anyone ever finds out... there's no denying it. I'm gay."

"Don't be ashamed of me." Dave looked at Sam, surprise on his face. "I'm not asking you to walk around telling everyone. I mean, it's your private business! But don't act like what we did was horrible. I deserve better than that." Sam didn't know if he would be able to take Dave feeling guilty over sex.

_Shit, shit, I knew he was like this... What was I thinking? Fuck!_ _Don't break my heart with this, please._


	17. Chapter 17

His Name is Beloved

One day, Timmy came home with a swollen lip. The skin wasn't broken, and he wasn't bruised, but when Dave asked him, he said he got at a fight in school. Timmy waved the yellow slip at Dave.

"Did you get suspended?"

"No, just detention."

"Good." Dave smiled. "Did you win?"

"Yes." But Timmy still didn't smile.

"Hey. You know who's gonna wanna hear this story?" Dave asked. Timmy looked up at him. "Sam."

Timmy smiled shyly.

Dave called him up.

"Hey," Sam said. He sounded out of breath.

"Hi! D'you mind coming over?"

"Uh... what for?"

"Timmy got into a fight at school. He's sort of down about it."

"Maybe after dinner. I'm sort of practicing with Artie right now."

"Okay, cool. How's that going, actually?"

"Great! Artie's a cool guy. We're working on choreography."

"Artie's in a wheelchair."

"Yeah, and that means he's totally still all the time in every one of our numbers. Think before you speak, dude."

Dave blushed. "You're right; that was stupid."

"I better go. I'll see you later, though."

"Can he come?" Timmy asked.

"He'll come over after dinner."

Timmy's face fell. "Oh."

"It's just a couple of hours, Champ."

Timmy nodded. Dave scooped his little brother up and tickled him. Timmy shrieked with laughter, and a wide smile made its way across Dave's face. Timmy hugged his brother before going to do homework, but Dave didn't stop worrying.

At dinner, Mr. Karofsky asked to see the yellow slip. It was Tuesday, so today their mom had picked Timmy up from school; she had undoubtedly already read it. Dave's father, Paul, read it with full attention.

"You haven't gotten into fights at school before, have you, Timothy?"

"No, sir."

"I don't want you to get into any more fights, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." He kept his eyes on his plate, not eating anything.

"I don't think your mother wants that, either."

She shot Timmy an icy look.

"No, sir," Timmy answered.

"How did this start, Timmy?"

"He insulted me."

"What did he say?" Their mother asked.

"He called me a fag."

Dave stopped himself from dropping his fork.

_Oh, god, no. This cannot be happening._ It was one of those weird moments where Dave was both lost in thought and hanging onto every word that was said.

"That was very wrong of him, and I will be calling his mother," Mrs. Karofsky spoke up.

"Son, now that you're getting older, you need to start dealing with problems like an adult, that means using your words. If anyone bothers you again, you need to tell someone who's trained to handle that, like a teacher, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"This isn't going to happen again, is it Tim?"

"It might, Dad." Timmy looked up at their father. "Dad, I'm gay."

"I love you." That was his mother. His father just held out his hand over the dinner table.

And Dave thought of every time he had shoved Kurt, every time he had called the glee boys gay or homos or fags. He thought about how his brother must have felt when that kid said it to him... and how Timmy was going to feel when it happened again and again in his next six years of public schools.

_No, no, not my little brother._ He couldn't stand it, so he got up and walked away.

His father followed him.

"What are you doing?" he whispered to Dave. "Timothy needs us. He needs our support right now. Can't you see that?"

"Yeah, yeah I can." His voice was low.

"So get back to the table."

"No, Dad."

"That guy, that young man you threatened, he was gay too, wasn't he?"

Silence.

"If you can't be there for your brother, I want you to leave."

"Fine."

His father followed him towards the door.

"David?" his mother called out. "David, where are you going?"

The door closed, and Dave couldn't hear his father's words.

"You can't just kick out our _son_!" his mother screamed. "Paul, he's our _son_, he's just seventeen!"

Then his father shouted back, but Dave just slumped against the door. He buried his face in his hands, back sliding down the cold entrance.

Redial. Phone ringing. Praying Sam would pick up.

"Hello?"

"Sam?"

"Can I come over?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. Are you okay? Do you need me to pick you up?"

"Yes, please."

"Are you at home?"

"Yup." _Fuck, fuck, __**fuck**__._

"I'll be right there."

Dave thought he'd run out of tears, but when Sam showed up, the sobs started again.

"Why are they shouting?"

"Dad kicked me out."

"What? For how long?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, god, Dave. Did you come out?" There was real fear in his eyes.

"No... my brother did." Dave wiped his face with his sleeve. "I walked away, Sam. He needed us, and I just walked away. I'm so... I hate myself."

"Come on, let's go."

"I don't know what to do."

"We'll figure it out."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Sam hugged him right there on the cold doorstep. Dave didn't even care.

In Sam's room, Dave stared blankly at his hand, which was resting on Sam's pillow.

"Scoot over."

Dave obeyed. Sam let out a small sigh, laid down next to Dave, and pulled up the covers. He smiled and draped Dave's arm over himself.

"Why do I always fuck up, Sam?"

"You are not a fuck up."

"I just... my little brother..."

"Tell me what happened."

"That kid at school, the one he got in a fight with, that kid called him a fag, so he punched him. Then he said he was gay, and I walked away, Sam, he needed me, and I walked away!"

"Sh..." Sam grasped Dave's hand in both of his.

"Dad s-said I couldn't stay there if I couldn't be there for Timmy."

"You'll be there."

Dave sniffed. "What?"

"I'll take you back later, okay? When you're ready."

"To do what? I can't go back, Sam."

"You're going to go back. You'll apologize to your family."

"It's not enough, Sam!"

"It was enough for Kurt, and you did way worse things to him." That didn't seem right to Dave. On one hand, he could probably never really make it up to Kurt, but on the other, that was his little brother, and Dave thought that was worse than what he'd done to Kurt.

Neither Dave nor Sam was afraid of silence. They knew that quality time didn't have to be getting to know each other or catching up, that it could be simple silence and the enjoyment of each other's presence. There were simple gestures, Dave shuffling closer to Sam; Sam kissing Dave's hand; the couple staring into each other's eyes.

"Sam, do you cuddle with Santana after sex?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"She doesn't even want to kiss me afterwards. I think she's thinking about someone else."

"Puck?"

"Maybe." Brittany certainly came to mind.

"You _make_ me cuddle with you, though."

"Hey!" Sam snaked his arms around Dave. "You like it. Besides... when you leave, I'm afraid you're going to avoid me again."

"I'm sorry." He kissed Sam lightly. "How does it feel when Santana leaves?"

"I feel like I'm being used."

"But you know that already."

"I'm human, Dave. I want to know that I'm wanted." He frowned.

"I want you."

"I l- I like you."

Sam kissed him; Dave kissed back. Sam knelt on all fours over him. Dave smiled and slid his hands over Sam's ass, pushing the blonde's shirt up just a little bit. Sam's back would get cold, and as Dave knew, sudden cold turned Sam on. Dave ended up giving Sam a hickey.

"What about Santana?" he asked, blushing.

"You deserve better."

Sam laughed. "That's definitely you." He wasn't being sarcastic, either.

It was nearly midnight when Dave got back to his house. His father was sitting in the living room, facing the door.

"I was waiting for you." His father sighed. "Sit down, David."

Dave was as white as a sheet when he took a seat next to his father.

"Son, we're a family. We're supposed to be there for each other no matter what." Dave closed his eyes. "But tonight, I didn't do that for you, and you didn't do that for your brother."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Why couldn't you just stay, David?"

His father was disappointed in him. He'd fucked up again. _Why can't I stop?_

"Because I was scared."

"_You_ were scared? Timmy is eleven! He just came out to us!"

_I haven't even done that._ "Dad, today was just the beginning! There are going to be more of those kids, and he's going to punch back, Dad, but one day there's gonna be a bunch of them and only one of him. He's gonna be in high school, and it's gonna happen every day, Dad. I just... I thought about those guys at my school saying that stuff. I couldn't take it, Dad. I didn't want it to be true."

"Then why didn't you stop it? At your school? Why didn't you tell them to lay off that Hummel boy?"

"Because I was scared."

"Scared of _what_, David?"

"I-I'm gay, Dad."

His father pulled him into a hug.

"Why didn't you say something? Your mother and I have been so worried..."

"I just... I'm so afraid, Dad. We throw slushies at the glee guys just because they like singing and dancing, and Mom's always asking when I'm going to find a nice girl..."

"She'll probably start asking when you'll find a nice boy now."

"I, uh, I already did... sorta."

"Sorta?"

"Sam... we're kind of together."

"Are you happy with him?"

Dave nodded. "Dad, I want to tell you something else."

"Yes, son?"

"I apologized to Kurt a couple weeks ago."

"Good. I'm proud of you, son."

Dave stood up. "I have to tell Timmy I'm sorry."

"If he's asleep, don't wake him up."

"Okay."

Timmy wasn't asleep. He was laying down, staring at the wall, much like Dave had earlier. His eyes were red.

"What're you doing in here?"

"How you doin', Champ?"

"Fine." He sounded sullen.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off earlier. It wasn't right."

Timmy rolled over to look away, but Dave sat on his bed anyways.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"I don't care."

"I like boys, too."

"You're a liar."

"Remember when you snuck Sam in?"

"Yeah."

"We went on a date in Columbus."

"What?" Timmy rolled over. "Sam likes you?"

"Yeah."

"But I like Sam..."

Dave laughed and ruffled Timmy's hair.

"You'll find a boy who likes you back. It just takes a while."

"I'm glad you found Sam."

"Me, too."

"He's cool."

"The coolest."

"Don't tell him I like him."

"Why not? He'd think it's cute."

"Just _don't_, okay? I'm just his boyfriend's little brother."

Dave kissed him on the forehead (Timmy rubbed at the spot immediately) and went to bed feeling better than he had in ages.


	18. Chapter 18

His Name is Beloved

Baseball season was nearly over – there was one week left in April; after the first week in May, it would be done. Two weeks later would be Nationals. Sam was already freaking out. His parents were the last thing on his mind.

"Sweetie, can we talk?"

"Sure, Mom." He smiled. She handed him a mug of coffee.

"Last night your friend David came over, but he wasn't here in the morning."

"Mom, I told you he was having family problems."

"Are you dating him?"

"Sort of. I don't know if he'd say that, though."

"Because of the whole boy thing."

"Maybe. He's gay, but... I'm his first boyfriend. I don't know if it's just a secret from other people or if he wouldn't say that in private, either." Sam rested his forehead on his arms.

"And you want him to."

"I really like him, Mom." He wanted to tell her the truth, that he was in love, but the first person to know that should be David.

"What about Santana?"

"Mooooom..." He started banging his head on his arms.

"Sweetheart, I know you like both -"

"Maybe more," Sam mumbled.

"-but that doesn't mean you can't be faithful."

"Santana knows about Dave. Does that still mean it's cheating?"

"Does Dave know about Santana?"

"Yes."

"Are they both okay with it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"In high school?" Mrs. Evans huffed. "Are you all mature or do you just not care?"

"Dave thinks it's a great cover-up, and Santana just wants to be popular."

"Have they started tugging you apart yet?" She gave Sam a knowing look.

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Before your father and I were married, we tried the whole open relationship thing."

"What, in college?"

"A little after..."

"Mom, you told me Dad proposed to you on graduation day."

"We weren't married yet!"

"Gross!"

"Well, we tried dating this other couple for a while..." His mother too a sip of coffee. "But then John got jealous and broke up with all of us. Delilah was so clingy, and I thought it was fine! But then she started trying to show me up..."

"Please don't let that happen to me, Mom."

She laughed. "Sweetie, I have very rarely met a high schooler who knew what they wanted, let alone a young woman quite as forward as Santana seems to be with you."

"She told me I have to get her a present every time I see Dave."

"I want to applaud her self-awareness and shake the gold-digger out of her."

"Mom! That's my _girlfriend_!"

"It certainly fits with her popular image, though. 'We're so in love! He buys me a lot of gifts! We're obviously dating! That's my territory! I don't even mind that he's thinking of dudes when we make out!'"

"**Mom!**"

"Oh, shush. What does David think?"

"He asks about her. How stuff is going, if I do stuff with her that I do with him..."

"Has he said he's jealous?"

"Not yet."

"Bring it up. I want to know what excuse he makes."

"My life is not some romcom for you to enjoy."

"Oh, please. You're in high school; the whole thing's a romcom for me to enjoy. Besides, you know Kyle asked about your girlfriends. What was his excuse?"

"I don't remember..."

"You're supposed to!"

"I'm a guy!"

"Don't give me that! I know for a fact that guys remember little stuff like that."

"Fine, fine. I honestly don't remember why, though."

"Don't make a habit out of having two relationships, sweetie. They _can_ work out, but not a lot of people know how to do that."

"Okay, Mom."

"And I swear to god, if you're having sex with both of them, you all better be using protection properly, Sam, or I will ground you from here until you're fifty!"

"I know, Mom!"

"People act like AIDS isn't around anymore... or teen pregnancy, or _herpes_ -"

"I get it, Mom!" Sam threw his hands up. "We can talk about the health of my penis later."

She choked on her coffee. "Oh my god, get to school."

There was baseball practice for an hour, then he went over to Artie's for practice. They were going to perform on Thursday. They'd just finished another go-through when Sam's phone rang. It was especially odd because Artie's phone rang at the same time.

"Hello? Santana?"

She was sobbing.

"Can you come and get me? Brittany drove me here, and I want to go h-h-home."

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

He hung up and looked at Artie.

"I... I'll see if he'll take me."

"Did Brittany just -"

"She cheated on me with Santana."

"Wow, Santana did _not_ tell me that."

"Oh." Artie's face fell. "Uh... what'd she say?"

"She asked for a ride home. She was crying."

"Can you take me over? If you still want to go, I mean."

"Yeah, of course! How will you get back?"

"Brittany will drive me, I guess."

The car ride wasn't too long, but where Sam silently digested the situation that was waiting for the two of them, Artie wouldn't shut up about it.

"I mean, can you believe it? Brittany knows sex isn't just meaningless for me, but she still -"

"Maybe it's not meaningless for her, either."

"What?"

"She and Santana are best friends."

"Yeah! _Friends!_"

"Maybe it's a little more complicated."

"But it's just a thing, right? They just did it to get guys to pay for their food!"

Sam really wanted to punch Artie in the face, but and idea occurred.

"Maybe that was a cover story."

"What?"

"Maybe they just liked kissing each other more than they liked kissing boys."

Artie stared at him.

"Not all guys, just, you know, some guys."

"You think they're lesbians."

"No! Ugh!" He took a sharp left. "Why are those the two choices? They're sluts, or they're lesbians. Why?"

"They just cheated on us; they're already sluts."

Sam frowned. "Fine. But why can't they honestly be bisexual?"

"Because they _did_ do it for attention. And they _did_ make guys pay for it. I mean, if they liked each other like that, why didn't they ever date?"

"If they started dating, would you even notice the difference?"

There was Brittany's house. Santana was sitting on the steps.

"Skank," Artie muttered on his way in.

"Oh, shut up, Nessarose," Santana snapped.

"Dude, that's my girlfriend."

"She slept with my girlfriend!"

"Don't do it again."

Artie just wheeled into Brittany's front room. Sam sat on the ramp next to Santana.

"Were you planning this?" He put an arm over her.

"Yes."

"Why would you do that?"

"I thought... I thought she'd dump Artie. It would be just us again! I begged and begged. I did all those things she likes. Then she starts crying, saying I pressured her into sex..."

"Did you?"

"Yes! Yes. I just... I want to be with someone who actually wants me! I've never not been wanted; whenever I didn't feel wanted, there was always Brittany or Puck, but they're both busy playing _house_," she sneered.

"I'm supposed to be your boyfriend."

"As if. Like you're not -"

"Santana."

"Right." She spit into the grass. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of looking at you and knowing you're thinking about someone else."

"Congrats, Santana, you know what it's like to be cheated on."

"I'm serious. I'm not your girlfriend anymore. I hate you. I hate me. I hate Artie. I want to hate Brittany, but I just want her to _look_ at me..."

Sam patted her shoulder. "I know how you feel. You know, Dave won't even say he's jealous of you."

She scoffed. "You know, a lot of people are. Either they want to get with Brittany or have my confidence or whatever boy I'm with... but Dave already has you. Boys are stupid."

"Yeah."


	19. Chapter 19

His Name is Beloved

He was playing video games with Azimio. He couldn't focus very well, so his best friend kept kicking his ass. Dave wanted to come out to him, that was the plan. The problem with the plan were the risks involved. He had a whole year of high school left, and Azimio could make it hell for him if he wanted to. Sure, summer was coming up, but once you got back to school, all the drama flooded back, too. If Azimio didn't accept Dave the way he was... well, then their whole friendship was a lie. What would Dave do, then?

_Either way, I'm heading over to Sam's afterwards._

What if Azimio asked about guys, would Dave tell him about Sam? Maybe that wasn't the best idea. Sam wanted to stay in the closet at McKinley, so Dave didn't have the right to out him.

"Somethin' on your mind?" Azimio asked.

"I... Yeah. Um. Hm."

"Spit it out. You don't need pretty words."

"I like dudes." Dave took a deep breath, preparing for the explosion – but it didn't come.

Azimio nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

"That's all?"

"Dave, you're my boy." He held up his fist, and Dave tapped it with his own.

"I just... With all the glee guys..."

"Let's not do that next year. Man, it'll be Senior year. We don't need that drama."

"You're right."

"Besides, bros before hoes."

"What if the ho is a dude?"

"Equal opportunity; chicks can be bros, too."

They went back to playing video games.

When Dave got to Sam's house, Mr. Evans was doing dishes in the kitchen. Or was he cooking? Dave couldn't tell.

"Hey, Dave!" Sam's father called. "Sam's upstairs."

"Thanks, sir."

"Bill, if you don't mind."

"Thanks, Bill." Dave hated it when parents told you to call them by their first name. Maybe being addressed like a teacher made them feel old, but acting like they were just another teenager was awkward.

Sam didn't notice Dave come in – he was turned away, leaning over something on his desk. Dave pulled him into a hug from behind.

"David." Sam smiled widely (not that he could smile any other way).

"Guess what?"

"Actually, I have some news."

"Me, too!"

"Dave, you'll want to hear this." So Dave decided to wait. After all, he still had the good news, right?

"Okay, shoot."

"Santana broke up with me."

"What?" Dave unwrapped his arms from Sam.

"She won't tell."

"Are you sure? Because I don't believe that, I honestly don't."

"It's different this time." Sam bit his lip, but his eyes were steady. Dave wasn't convinced, though.

"Different from what? You know what I see when I look at Santana? I see a vindictive girl who doesn't like what I have with you, and who is in the unique position to utterly destroy my life."

"She won't, okay? She's tired of this whole game; she just wants someone to want her -"

"And you think she won't lash out at the people who made her feel unwanted?"

"I think she's changing! I think she's vulnerable!" There was that half-smile, the one Sam always had when he was talking to someone who was reluctant.

"Like an animal in a cage?"

"Yeah!"

"Animals in cages try to escape any way they can. They try to hurt the people keeping them there. We're some of those people." Dave crossed his arms and shot Sam a dark look.

"Dave, you're just scared."

"Of course I'm scared! You keep saying everything's going to be okay, Sam, and it keeps getting worse and worse!"

"Nothing bad has happened yet! Everything's worked out!" Sam put his hands on Dave's shoulders. "It'll be okay. Have some faith! Don't you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Well right now, I trust Santana. It's like when Harry had doubts about Snape, but he trusted Dumbledore -"

"So Santana is totally going to tell everyone, but that's all a part of your grand plan?"

"Maybe that's looking into the metaphor too much." But Sam smiled. "We can't do anything about it now."

"I have to do something about it."

"Why? Why can't you just let it be?"

"It's what I do when I'm afraid! I try to solve the problem!" _I'm almost yelling. I have to stop._ He took a deep breath.

"You can't solve every problem, Dave."

"That just makes me worry more."

Sam cupped Dave's cheek. "If things go wrong, I'll be right here. We'll figure it out together."

Dave took a deep breath. "Okay." He nodded.

"What was your news?"

"I told Azimio I'm gay."

Sam smiled again. "How did that go?"

"It was – it went great!" Dave kissed him.

"I love you."

Dave stopped. He stared at Sam, at his Sam. Sam loved him, and that was great, wasn't it? He knew he loved Sam back, but then his head was flooded with thoughts. He thought about next year, he thought about college, and afterwards. Would he be with Sam forever? Not just Sam, either. Dave was always going to be this way, liking guys, having to come out to people, having to deal with the people who couldn't accept that, having to live like half a person.

"I shouldn't have said that." Sam massaged his forehead. "Fuck. Just - just forget I said it, okay?"

"I have to go."

"No, don't go. Just forget I said it."

"I need to think." _I need to get out of here._

"Please don't go, Dave, please?" Those gray eyes were begging him to stay.

"I just have to think."

He didn't look back when he walked out.

How long was this going to be his problem, this stigmata that came with being gay? For the rest of his life? Years from now, when they finally got equal rights? No, even after that. It didn't matter if Santana told everyone about him and Sam because they were already fucked over.

_Maybe it's better to just pretend. Maybe if I just tried hard, I could get into girls. _Except that wouldn't work, and he knew it. What could he do, then?


	20. Chapter 20

His Name is Beloved

The cool thing about being seventeen was that you were still allowed to need your parents, so Sam appreciated it when his mother rocked him back and forth and wiped away his tears. Instead of ice cream, Mrs. Evans broke out a new diet and work out regimen, one that included Sam practicing dance moves for Nationals. They didn't wallow in dorky movies like he wanted to; his mother forced him to get up and move. In a way, that was the best thing for him. Working out, singing, when he wasn't actively focusing on it, it made him think, and it gave him an excuse to not be bothered. It only took him a couple of days to be functioning outwardly. That's when Quinn came over.

"I thought we could work on a number together," the elfish blonde explained. "We sing well together, and we can both dance."

"Quinn is this about a duet, or are you trying to get back together with me? You didn't run to Finn after we broke up, and I still don't know why."

She clasped her hands together. "Because I obviously needed a break from relationships. Maybe I still do! But I was hoping you had forgiven me, and that's why I came over." She cast her brown eyes to the floor.

"Santana and I broke up because we were together for the wrong reasons. She couldn't take it anymore."

"Take what, exactly?"

"The fact that I didn't have feelings for her." Quinn bit her lip. "Quinn, you're a great girl, and... I'm in love with someone else."

"Oh, and you broke up with me because of Finn." She crossed her arms.

"Santana knows about it. She knew about it from the start."

"And does this other girl know how you feel."

"Yes." His throat was dry. He shouldn't have opened his big mouth to Dave.

"Does she like you back?"

"Yeah... sort of. There's a problem."

"There always is."

"It's a boy."

"Oh, so you're gay now, is that it? I break your heart, so you just turn to guys?" Her voice was panicked.

"Quinn, I'm bi."

"Yeah, sure, tell me, Sam, how long, exactly, have you known that?" She was tapping her foot furiously.

"Since I was thirteen, thank you very much."

Quinn blushed and put a hand to her chest. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me. For a second, it was like everything we had was a lie, and that's hurtful."

He didn't smile. "What you said was hurtful, Quinn."

"So, um, who is this guy?"

"Can't tell you. It's his business."

"It's your business, too, isn't it? If you're in love with him?"

"I can't out him without his permission, that's happened too much lately." Sam looked away.

"Okay. So how are things going?"

"I told him I loved him."

"You always go this fast, don't you?" She rolled her eyes and flopped onto his bed. "How long have you two even been a, uh, a thing?"

"March-ish, I think."

"Have you two even had sex?"

"None of your business, Quinn."

"Fine. What'd he say?"

"He sort of ran away. That was Thursday."

"And now it's Monday. He hasn't called?"

"No."

"Jerk."

"Boys are stupid."

Quinn giggled. "Do you think he's going to come back?"

"Yes," Sam answered miserably. "He always does. I don't know if I want him back, though."

"Because he always does this?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe you deserve better." The short blonde sighed. "Let's pick a song to work on."

"You were serious about that?"

"Yes. Singing and dancing always helps me. Besides, we need our A-game for Nationals." She smiled, and he remembered why he'd liked her in the first place.


	21. Chapter 21

His Name is Beloved

"Hi, um, your name is Rachel, right?" Dave asked.

Berry plastered on a fake smile. He knew it was fake, but was she letting him know that on purpose? From what he'd heard, the gelfling diva could make herself cry realistically in an instant. Shakespeare aside, the whole world _was_ this young brunette's stage, or at least she treated it that way.

"Why yes, my name is Rachel. What do you want, David?"

She knew how to play the disappointed-and-strict-parent well.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute." _Stay calm._

"Fine." She dragged him to an empty classroom, but she started speaking first. "You know, I don't know why I'm giving you my time of day when you drove one of my best friends out of this school. I know Kurt has told you he's forgiven you for your homophobic outbursts, but I don't think you understand what each of those insults meant to me, seeing as how _I_ have two gay dads. Any sort of bigotry is horrifying, but I take homophobia, antisemitism, and racism very, very personally since all of those apply to my family if not to me personally."

"Rachel -"

"And I hope, David, that this is very, very important, because we are all gearing up for Nationals, and Glee Club is having quite a bit of drama right now, and I am sitting back trying to make sure that not only does everyone get their spotlight, but that they make it the best damn spotlight anyone has ever seen because New York will _not_ be the same once Rachel Barbra Berry has been there!"

"Rachel, I want to talk to your dads."

"Excuse me? You think I would welcome you into my home when you have made it very clear what you think of the people who would be your hosts?" She crossed her arms. The fake smile was back, and her voice sounded unnaturally high. "Kurt may have accepted your apology, but I haven't even heard one."

"Rachel, I'm gay."

"Yes, and that means you have a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card for being homophobic. Having self esteem issues means it's totally okay to treat someone like they're worthless. I want an apology and an explanation of why you want to talk to my fathers."

"Look, I'm sorry I've been making your life hell. I know this is a big year for you with college and all -"

"I'm going to Julliard," she said, as if she could have applied. She was a Junior.

"- and my personal problems don't make bullying okay for any reason. I want to talk to your dads because... Because they're the other end of the tunnel." He shoved his hands into his coat pocket.

"The tunnel?"

"You're not actually gay, so I don't know if you'll understand. From where I am, my whole life looks like this giant tunnel filled with homophobia, potholes like finding decent guys, trying to get equal rights you get without asking, crap that basically _sucks_. And I have to live through it. Your dads... They have their life settled. I mean, they still have to deal with people, uh, people like me, but they have jobs, they have a home in a nice neighborhood, and they have you. I'm just a kid, Rachel, I'm not ready to look at my future and just decide the course of my life for the next, what, ten, twenty years?" He grit his teeth and sighed.

"You know, some of that stuff you're talking about, the bigotry and the rights? I have to deal with that stuff because I'm a girl, because I'm Jewish, and because I'm black."

"You're not-"

"There is a fifty/fifty chance that I am genetically father James's daughter, and I was raised by an interracial couple, David. At the very least, I have black heritage." Her voice lowered again. "Besides, Daddy James's name is the one on my birth certificate."

"Why?"

"They thought it would help me with financial aid in college."

"See? That's stuff I haven't even thought of!"

"You won't have to think about it until you settle down!" She sat down beside him. "What brought this on?"

"A guy – my boyfriend told me he loved me. I love him, too, but I haven't told him because I freaked out. I mean, when you love someone, you feel like you're going to stay with them forever, right?" She nodded solemnly. "I just pictured my whole life with him, and it looks really hard. I'm not strong enough."

"You're stronger than you think." Hearing someone else – someone who wasn't Sam – say that was a shock. "We all are." She patted him on the back. "So what did this boyfriend of yours do?"

"I don't know. I haven't talked to him, and that was nearly a week ago."

Her jaw dropped. "When you go back, you'd better bring your A-game!"

"Like what? Quote Star Wars at him?"

She grabbed both his hands. "You should serenade him!"

"I'm not _singing_ to him!"

"Why, because singing is lame?" She frowned. Was anyone as expressive as her? Dave wondered if she did it on purpose.

"No, because everyone's doing it."

"You're right. You should get him flowers!"

"Cliche."

"Fourteen of them!"

"Fourteen?"

"And have a note tied to each of them." She clasped her hands together.

"Why?"

"And each note will contain a single line of a sonnet!" Her face was raised towards the heavens.

"I thought a sonnet was a song?"

"And you can recite the sonnet to him and you hand him the flowers, one line at a time!" There were stars in her eyes as she daydreamed about some guy, probably Finn, doing just this for her. "That is so romantic."

"I think I'm just going to say nerdy things to him."

"Who is this guy, anyways?"

"I can't tell you."

"Is he in glee?"

"We're not playing twenty-questions with this, Berry!"

"I won't tell."

"Yeah, so you can lord the fact that you have a secret over everyone else." Dave rolled his eyes.

"Tell me or I won't let you talk to my dads."

"Berry, I swear to god, if you tell _anyone_, I will slushie you _every day_, even if we don't have school!"

"Agreed."

"Sam."

"Sam? Sam _Evans_?"

"Yes."

"Who just got through with Santana?"

"Yeah!" He scratched his head. Was it so hard to believe that Sam would like a guy like him? _He's way outta my league, though._

"Oh, wow." She looked up at him. "And he loves you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. When do you want to come over?"

"Uh... Is tomorrow night okay?"

"Absolutely." She smiled, and this time it wasn't fake. This time. It was bright enough to light up the sky.


	22. Chapter 22

His Name is Beloved

Santana cornered Sam during his free period. She was skipping math for this, he knew. What he didn't know was if she would try to make out with him, as had been their habit.

"So I was hanging out with Rachel -" the Latina began.

"Since when does that happen?"

"Since everyone hates me, and the diva will do anything to keep us from falling apart before New York." She twirled a lock of hair around her pinky.

"Okay, so you were hanging out with Rachel..."

"I was hanging out with Rachel, and she mentioned that your boy-toy had dinner with her and her parents the night before last."

Sam stared at her blankly. "Oh, um. Wow. Uh, this isn't my business, and don't call Dave my boy-toy."

"Why, is he your boyfriend?"

Sam blushed, ashamed. He couldn't say that if Dave hadn't said it yet, right? _That was the rule I should have used for the L word._

Santana sighed. "I'm sorry. Rachel says I shouldn't cut people down so much."

"Why do you care what Rachel says? I mean _you_, not people in general. Why the sudden change?"

"She's been really nice to me since I became Glee Club's new pariah," Santana huffed. "We're doing a duet together."

"I can't imagine you agreeing to a duet with someone you like to call _Man-Hands_, and the only time Rachel accepts duets are in diva-offs and -" Sam's jaw dropped. "You two are together."

"Oh, please, you're just saying that because it gets you off." Except when Santana rebuffed someone, she usually looked them right in the eyes.

"Why are you doing this to her? She doesn't even like you that way!"

"You know, it's really nice to see her face light up every time I smile at her! I love how she keeps trying to impress me, too, because it makes her perfectionist, know-it-all personality a lot more bearable. RuPaul isn't a bad kisser, either."

"That's just great, Santana, you're leading her on and insulting her behind her back. Wonderful."

"Rachel is perfectly aware of the confines of our fun. I told you she would do anything to keep glee together."

"You're better than this, Santana."

"Better than what? Without high school, I'm nothing. College? Please. I'm smart but not enough for anything worthwhile. I can sing but not well enough to be a star. I can dance but not well enough to do it professionally. I can't just fuck it and fake it through life, Sam. My best bet is to find someone to hitch myself to and use their money to buy enough Valium to get me through the rest of it."

"That's not true."

"Really, then? What can I do?"

"You could probably do broadcasting, acting – you sing and dance well enough to do non-Broadway theater. Don't go to Broadway, though, everyone goes to Broadway."

"That's where Berry's going. She'll make it, too. Maybe I should go with her... as a fuck buddy or whatever she wants."

"Santana, you don't even like her that much." He patted her shoulder. "Wake up. It's time to start living for yourself. Find a real plan B. Say you do go to New York with Rachel. It's going to be hard. What if she goes to college first, what are you going to do? Get a job as a waitress? What about when she figures out why you're with her? Don't you think she'll be hurt? Then she'll kick you out, and you'll be stuck in a city where no one knows you. You'll be broke and homeless. What then?"

"I'll fuck some rich guy. It's not like it doesn't happen." Then she started crying into her hands. "I'm no good at being alone, Sam! I've never not been wanted. It sucks; it sucks more than anything! I hate it!"

"Stop leading Rachel on. Her love life is enough of a mess."

"Just give me time, Sam, I can make her want me! I know I can!"

Sam shook his head. "It isn't right."

"Please Sam? I need her."

"She's a person, Sanny. You need to think about her feelings."

She didn't say anything more, but he helped fix her up when she was done crying.


	23. Chapter 23

His Name is Beloved

Dave wasn't sure what to wear. He'd waited until after dinner because he wanted to be sure that Sam wasn't out practicing or had someone over practicing. Now he just wanted to make sure he gave Sam a good impression.

_A suit's overdressing, right?_ _Jeans and a tee just seem too average._ At one point, Dave laid face down on his bed and tried to scream into his pillow, but it just came out as a depressed moan. Then he got up and decided on khaki pants and a nice shirt.

"Where are you going, David?" his mother asked.

"Over to Sam's, Mom."

"It's a school night, sweetheart, be back before eleven." She was humming – when was the last time his mother hummed? She'd been much happier these past few weeks. Telling her the truth felt like the best thing Dave had ever done.

Sam's mother wasn't quite as happy when she saw him at the door.

"Oh, Dave. What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to Sam."

"Usually when a boy doesn't call for a week, that means there isn't a second date." She cocked her head to the side. "Of course, in high school, it seems a lot worse. Actually, when you've been in a relationship for several months, that _is_ worse."

Dave blushed. "Can I just talk to him?"

"Sweetie?" she yelled up the stairs. "Dave's here! Should I tell him to come up or can I say you're not here?"

"I'm right here, I know he's already at home." Sometimes when she did stuff like this, it was funny. Now it was just confusing.

"He can come up, Mom."

"Okay!" She turned to Dave. "He deserved a call."

Dave tried not to look at her as he headed upstairs. Sam was standing in the doorway of his room.

_Are you going to invite me in?_ Except that look Sam was giving him... what did it mean? They stared at each other, and Sam finally moved aside. Dave sat down in the chair at Sam's desk.

"What do you have to say?" Sam asked.

"I love you." He tried to smile at Sam, but Sam's expression didn't change.

"Why didn't you say so a week ago?" His voice was thick.

"I just... I should have. I didn't." Dave looked down at his hands.

"What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I want us to be together -"

"Why? Why should we?"

"Because I'm sorry! Please forgive me? Please?" Dave bit his lip.

"No." Sam's arms were crossed. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I just needed a little time -"

"You always need a little time!" Sam bellowed. He took a deep breath before he continued. "I have spent all of my time _waiting_. After I kissed you, after we went on a date, after we held hands at the park, after we had sex, and when you tell your best friend that you're gay, he says it's okay, and I think that finally, I can tell you I love you. Once I do, you just run away, like you always do. You didn't call to say you were sorry, you didn't even _look at me _for a week! Every time you ran away, you broke my heart a little." He threw up his hands. "Well, nice work, _Karofsky_, you shattered it."

"I love you." _It's not supposed to happen this way._

"**You should have said so a week ago! **Fuck." Sam wiped his eyes. "You need to go. I'm done waiting for you, Dave."

"Sam, just give me another chance -"

"I have given you every chance in the world."

"I can make it up to you! Please?" Sam couldn't do this to him, not now, not his Sam. "Haven't I always made it up to you? I always fuck up; it's been like that since the beginning. I've always made up for it - apologizing to Kurt, stopping my friends from bullying the glee kids? I sent your mother flowers on her birthday when you forgot about it." Sam was always the person who helped Dave be better; Sam was the one who supported him, the one who always believed in him. Sam couldn't do this. "I was scared; I wasn't thinking -"

"You knew what it would do to me! You know how horrible I feel when you leave; you just stop talking to me; you won't look me in the eye, and I feel like I've done something horrible to you. You make me feel awful when you run away, and you knew that! When you love someone, you think of them first, and I've been doing that this whole time." Sam shook his head. "I need to think about me now, and what's best for me is to leave you. I deserve better."

"I can be better - you know that! Just give me a chance, Sam, please. I'll do anything."

"No. Get out of my room. Get out of my house. I don't want to see you here again."

"I'll come out to the school!"

"Don't do that."

"I'll join Glee Club!"

"Don't even think about it."

"Sam." Dave reached out and grabbed his hand. "Sam, I'm sorry I broke your heart. I didn't mean to. Please, please don't break mine."

Sam didn't say anything; he caged his head between his forearms and laid on his side. Dave walked over and bent over him. He slipped his fingers through Sam's. Sam looked up at him, gray eyes fogged over.

"I don't know. I want to take you back. I want everything to be happy and nice, but what if you run away again? I don't want to feel like this again, Dave."

Dave kissed him. "Tomorrow, I will bring you roses."

"Where's the romance in telling me?"

"The romance is the surprise."

Sam half-smiled. "And now there is none."

"You'll see." Dave lifted Sam's face to his, but Sam kissed him first. "Do you want me to sing to you?"

"Singing is my thing. Did Rachel suggest that?" Sam was grinning.

"She also said I should recite romantic poems."

"How many gay poems are there?"

"A lot. Shakespeare wrote a few." Dave's cheek was on Sam's; his lips by his ear. "_So am I as the rich whose blessed key, / Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure -_" Sam's hand crawled up Dave's chest, fingers inching under his shirt "-_ The which he will not every hour survey, / For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure._"Sam ran it up Dave's neck and into his hair."_Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare, / Since seldom coming in that long year set, -_" Sam's knee was propped up, leg beside Dave's "- _Like stones of worth they thinly placed are, / Or captain jewels in the carcanet. / So is the time that keeps you as my chest -_" Sam's other hand was digging into Dave's back pocket "- _Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide, / To make some special instant special-blest, -_" Dave reached for Sam's belt "- _By new unfolding his imprisoned pride. / Blessed are you whose worthiness gives scope, / Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope._"

"Shakespeare said that, huh?"

"It's his fifty-second sonnet." Dave smiled.

"And you memorized it?"

Dave nodded and leaned down again. "I love you."


	24. Chapter 24

His Name is Beloved

The day before Sam flew out to Nationals, Dave gave him flowers. They were orange lilies, and he told Sam that it meant "passion." Tied to each one was a ribbon with a line from another Shakespearean sonnet. Dave recited it and handed the fourteen flowers to him, one at a time.

"_When I consider everything that grows_," Dave began, looking at Sam with unblinking eyes, "_Holds in perfection but a little moment._" They were in the backyard. Dave didn't look like he cared, but he was focused on Sam so much... Sam was the one who was looking around to make sure no one saw.

"_That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows,_" Dave continued in a soft, steady voice, "_Whereon the stars in secret influence comment._"

Sam smelled the flowers and looked at the ribbons, the impeccable writing on them. How long had this taken Dave? How did he even come up with this? He held back a laugh as he thought of Rachel – she and Dave had been talking these last few weeks. Maybe she was overjoyed by the thought of playing matchmaker, even if she hadn't gotten them together.

"_When I perceive that men as plants increase, / Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky: Vaunt their youthful sap, at height decrease_," Sam blushed at the almost obvious reference to erections, "_And wear their brave state out of memory._" Dave wasn't blushing, but he was grinning. He wouldn't like it so much if he were blushing – so Sam decided to make him.

"_Then the conceit of this inconstant stay,_" Sam didn't let go of Dave's hand when he gave him the next lily; Sam leaned forward, eyes trained on Dave's. "_Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,_" and Sam traced Dave's jaw with his tongue. It was warm, then very quickly cold, and Dave shivered as he recited the next line.

"_Where wasteful time debateth with decay / To change your day of youth to sullied night,_" but that wasn't enough, so Sam slipped a hand over Dave's ass, then into the jeans. Dave stumbled over the ending couplet. "_And all in war with Time for love of you, / As he takes from you, I engraft you new._"

"Sam, we're outside..." He was definitely blushing now.

"I'm not going to see you for a whole week." Sam started sucking on Dave's neck; he wanted a mark that would last until he came back.

"You don't even care about the flowers," Dave complained.

"You're the one who picked a sonnet about boners." Sam still stepped back and cradled in his arms. "I'll put these in a vase – in my room." They kissed, and it was one of those careless kisses, the ones where Sam knew Dave wasn't worried about who might see.

New York was something else. Mr. Schue told them about how he'd won Nationals back in high school, but only Rachel, Quinn, Mike, and Tina listened. They were already nervous. Sam was nervous, but only when he actually thought about performing. Other than that, he was excited to be in one of the biggest cities in the world. Kurt was calling them all incessantly, asking them how New York was and how the competition was. There were five straight days of performances, and they got the first performance on Friday.

Rachel and Santana were sharing a room. No one else seemed to have figured out how it hadn't exploded yet, but Sam knew that when Santana was nervous, she tried to distract herself with people. Brittany might have noticed, but she was still busy trying to win Artie back.

"The problem is," Artie told Sam, "that I sort of want her to keep Santana out of her life, but Santana's her best friend. I feel like I'm overstepping it."

_You are_, Sam thought, but he didn't say anything.

Quinn was focusing on Friday completely, constantly practicing scales and choreography. Finn practiced with her, but he kept giving Sam nervous glances. Did he really expect Sam to start a fight this close to a performance? Then again, he didn't know that Sam had Dave.

Tina was taking coaching from Mercedes, who wanted to outshine Rachel for once. Mercedes worked well under pressure. Puck and Lauren were slacking off, too enraptured by the city they were in. Rachel was constantly snapping at them to practice. The more the week went on, the more irritable she got.

"I don't have enough time to practice!" she kept complaining.

"Rachel, you need down time, or you're going to lose your voice," Santana said.

"Don't you dare jink me!" the soloist shrieked.

"Fine! I hope you really break a leg!" the Latina countered.

Santana was knocking on their door an hour later with an apologetic look on her face.

"How are you doing?" Quinn asked Sam.

"Good. I'm not nervous at all. Everyone else seems to be exploding." They were in the hallway.

"Do you miss him?"

"I... Yeah. I want to text him, but he's afraid someone will see. I call him at night, though." Sam gave a little half smile before checking to make sure it was just them.

"Do you regret getting back together?"

"No. Not – not yet." Sam crossed his arms. Should he be telling this to Quinn? She was his ex, and she'd wanted to get back together with him. She was really chill about him and Dave, though, and Sam really wanted a friend to talk about this whole thing.

"Does anyone know about you two?"

Sam hesitated to tell her that Rachel knew. There were enough sparks between the two. "No. I mean, maybe a friend, but he hasn't told me whom." _Whom._ The word made him think of Dave, who'd taught him about it two weeks ago. Sam was already using it regularly.

"Maybe you should tell someone else." She gave him a sweet smile.

"It's almost summer. We can hold out until then."

Except Puck walked in when he was talking to Dave. He wasn't doing anything (not yet, at least), but it bothered him that he couldn't just tell Puck to leave. He could have said he was talking to a girl, but then he would have to produce a mystery girl at some point.

_I bet I could ask Rachel would do it if I asked her before Friday. She would do anything to keep the team together._ No, he'd done that with Santana. Rachel deserved a real relationship just like everyone else.

Then Friday came. He was so nervous, he was sick. He stood in the bathroom, dry heaving, for five minutes before Quinn came in with a Vitamin Water. He managed to keep it down, but he was sweating so much. This wasn't just Regionals or Sectionals where they were up against two other groups; this was Nationals, and there were _nine_ other teams there today. In all, there were _fifty._ There was barely any point in performing, but he didn't want to say that. Rachel gave them all a squeaky pep talk with references he didn't understand. He wished they'd just gotten second at Regionals; anything would be better than this. Mr. Schue was no help; he was just looking around and sighing. He wasn't performing, just reliving his past. _I guess he doesn't remember the bad parts._

When the curtain went up, all of that went away. The music started, they built their harmonies, and Rachel took the lead. Everything was calm for Sam. They still didn't win.

They didn't get trophies because only the people who placed got those. Rachel at least wanted a ribbon that said "4th place" on it, but that would have been humiliating, Sam though. Everyone else agreed that it would be too elementary school.

Tina and Mercedes cried. Rachel and Quinn huffed. Finn and Puck accepted it silently. Mike and Artie just talked and talked. Brittany stared off into the distance. Lauren didn't care; she was in New York. Sam didn't think anything. It was like everything in his head was on pause. Seeing Dave was the play button.

"So what happened?" Dave was holding both of his hands. They were in Sam's bedroom.

"We lost." Then it all came pouring out. He hadn't known how badly he'd wanted a trophy. They were five points away from getting third, too. "I knew we would," he sobbed on Dave's shoulder, "but we tried so hard... We worked all week. We were supposed to be relaxing! We gave everything, Dave, everything."

"You'll be better next year."

"I don't even want to do it next year."

Dave laughed. "Of course you do. You won't be able to stay away." He touched a lock of Sam's hair. "Your roots are coming in."

Sam sniffed. "So?"

"So I was wondering if you were going to keep it this color or not."

"I haven't thought about it." He couldn't take Dave touching his hair this much; he wanted him to take a fistful and drag his face down – down -

"You could cut it. They're almost long enough." Was Dave aware what he was doing to Sam?

"I'd look awkward with short hair."

"But you have all summer to grow it out." He smirked. Oh yeah, he knew how he was making Sam feel. "I think you'd look really sexy with brown hair."

"I'll look stupid." Dave dug his fingers into Sam's hair. _Fuck – yes._

"You know what I'll do to you if you cut it, though?"

Why were his legs so tight? Or was that just his jeans? But he couldn't keep the smile off his face now, not when Dave was whispering dirty things in his ear, and Sam laughed and begged him to please, please do some of that now. Dave turned pink but promised it would be amazing. It was; Sam loved the feeling of Dave's lips on his skin, Dave's hands sliding over his muscles, Dave's pleading and grunts rushing to his ears. But afterwards, Dave stared and stared, and Sam was afraid he would run away again.

_No, he said he wouldn't._

"Sam... what happens after high school?" Sam was staring at the ceiling, and Dave was face-down next to him.

"I guess you can play football at Ohio State -"

"I don't want to go to college in Ohio."

Sam looked over at Dave. He was scowling.

"I want to go somewhere far, far away from here. I don't – I don't want to be the dumb jock that bullies people. I want to stop being afraid. I can't do that here."

"Well, I want to go to Berklee College of Music. It's in Boston."

Dave smiled. "Really?"

"I really love glee." Sam cupped Dave's face in his hands. "Go out to the East Coast with me. Maybe it'll be easy out there, being yourself right from the start. I mean, people will care... but you can kick their ass."

"I can't go to Berklee."

"Go to another college, whatever. There are lots of colleges nearby." Sam kissed him, and it was sweet.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not afraid anymore."

**The End**


End file.
